


Autumn Leaves

by LaMarwy



Category: Maleficent (Disney Movies)
Genre: Angst, Drama & Romance, F/F, Magic, Maleficent (2019), Post-Movie: Maleficent: Mistress of Evil, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2020-12-31 18:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21149963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaMarwy/pseuds/LaMarwy
Summary: A new evil lingers upon the two realms. For once, however, it is not a kingdom nor a damsel in distress that needs saving.





	1. there’s never a real end

**Author's Note:**

> It's a pity that they turned a true love's kiss into a maternal affair, but hey, that's why fanfictions exist. The new Maleficent movie is sensational and these three women owned the scene majestically; they deserved <strike>so much</strike> more. So that's that, my take on what happens next - or Maleficent 3: the vengeance of the spindle (jk). Enjoy and please, _please_ create more Malora & Ingricent content! **Maleficent fandom, arise!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any info: https://mementomori-demimonde.tumblr.com/

Fandom: Maleficent – Mistress of Evil  
Set: movie (for the first chapter) and post-movie  
Title: **Autumn Leaves**

* * *

****

Chapter 1 - there’s never a real end

Maleficent landed on the balcony right outside Aurora’s room. Her feet touched the ground one soon after the other, making no sound. Slowly, she approached the window and stood hidden, peeking in with a fond smile.

Aurora was spinning around in one of her endless games, as the white dress trailed behind her, making waves and flutters around her legs. Her happy laugh made the faery's ears twitch at the familiar, elating sound which settled right in her heart, for her to cherish it like hundreds of other memories of the girl. Even if five years had passed, Aurora didn’t look any older than sixteen, that crucial age that changed Maleficent’s life by not only awakening the sleeping beauty, but also something locked deeper within her soul – something she didn’t think she had anymore, and yet, she was mistaken.

Maleficent blinked, warding off all her blue thoughts, overwhelmed by the familiar need of getting close to the girl, hearing her voice and reflecting in the azure of her eyes. How weird was to think that, from now on, she wouldn’t be able to indulge to her whims of having Aurora near whenever she wanted, that perhaps seeing the girl would become only some occasional matter - or perhaps not even that.

She finally stepped into the light, and with her wings open, she was also keeping the sunbeams out of the room. Aurora didn’t even acknowledge at first, but then, when Maleficent’s shadow appeared beneath her feet in all its glory, she abruptly stopped her playing and turned to the window, beaming and laughing heartedly at the sight of the dearest faery.

The girl ran toward the welcomed intruder and Maleficent couldn’t help but smile when she noticed Aurora was barefoot as if she was still the little untamed lassie from the Moors.  
Aurora almost leaped into her waiting arms and Maleficent promptly catch her into a tight embrace, her wings folding on both of them protectively.  
She slowly put her down, without breaking contact with her. “How beautiful you are.” She whispered in her ear.

Reluctantly depriving herself of the warm and well-known embrace, Aurora took a few steps back to show her dress, spinning around once more. “Do you like it? It’s the fairies’ doing.”

“I do.” Offered Maleficent, but her voice didn’t bring the joy Aurora craved. The winged-creature wasn’t one to conceal her emotions, so reading her state of mind was fairly easy.

“What is it, Godmother?” The girl asked impatiently, a slight fear rooting inside her.

Maleficent flinched. At that moment, hearing the name Aurora had come up for her, years ago, was like a blade through her heart.

Suddenly, the reason she appeared unannounced in her chambers appeared dull and meaningless – or simply out of time. And yet she was there, and with Aurora seeing right through her with her questioning eyes, it was almost impossible to feed her the excuse of just wanting to offer a little surprise to the bride; it wouldn’t have stood up.

She might've as well just spoke her heart and get done with it, bury her hopes forever and put her mind to peace.  
Maleficent drew a heavy breath and rested her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I’ll ask you one more time and never mention it again.”

Aurora feared for the worst and she put all her attention to the hearing. Why must celebrate had to always be so complicated in that kingdom? Christenings, coronations, weddings – it was as if something just _had_ to go wrong. And now what? A war or a plague flaring up in the Moors? “Alright.”

“Are you sure you want to marry Philip?” Came the question, bore with a dim voice that was barely above breath.

Aurora’s face immediately lit up, laughing happily at what she thought nothing more than a joke. She beamed helplessly, and Maleficent’s heart divided painfully between the fact that the girl hadn’t comprehended the seriousness of her question and relief, for Aurora sounded truly happy, without a single doubt. “Godmother, we talked about it!” The girl giggled, faking a vexed expression on her face.

Maleficent tightened her lips into a smile and nodded, expelling air from her nostrils in a hidden sigh. “Yes, we did.” Perhaps she was just being selfish, thinking solely about her own feelings – and how could she dare to ruin her life forever? Whether she wanted to shake her and yell that _no, she shouldn’t have married the boy for it was a big mistake_, or not, it didn’t make any difference.  
She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. Aurora was so young, and for how painful it was to admit, so naive as well. She was too trusting and too eager to live, experience everything and soon. Aurora wasn't ready. She herself wasn't ready: there was so much to teach her, still. “But are you sure you know what real love is?”

Aurora took a deep breath, tilting her head to the side and smiling affectionately at what she thought only an over-protective parent playing the part. In her mind, Maleficent just needed reassurance and the girl wanted to give her just that: everything would be different, yes, but change, sometimes, was good. And of course, it would never mean changing something between them. “I do, Godmother. I thought it was impossible to love more people at the same time, but you showed me that there are many kinds of love.”

Maleficent softened her glance. Those words of comfort only aggravate the sense of guilt she felt – it was all her own fault, in a way, if Aurora was so sure and happy with her decision. “That I did.” She proclaimed bitterly. She took a small breath and lifted her hand, pushing a lock of blond curls behind Aurora’s ear; the girl had always had small ones, so the lock fell down almost instantly, returning to its previous position. It happened so many times before, so Maleficent smiled fondly through a sigh.

Aurora flinched. The faery who was usually easy to read was giving now an enigmatic expression that she couldn’t just comprehend. It made her feel uncomfortable and depriving herself of such a contact, she cleared her throat before speaking. Finding back her liveness, Aurora frowned, only now thinking of how odd was for Maleficent to be there, in her room, when the preparations weren’t yet ready. “Why are you here? Weren’t you supposed to meet me in the gardens?”

“I was.” Maleficent agreed, “But I needed to see you.”

Her smile didn’t fool Aurora: she was about to tell her something and the fact that she was there when the plans were others, let the girl know that it was something big. "Go on."

“I’m leaving, Beastie.” She murmured, her heart hammering in fright within her ribcage.

Aurora stared, her mouth agape in horror. It was so sudden, unexpected and frankly she new felt on the edge of a cliff, about to fall off as the ground crumbled beneath her feet. “Leaving?” She stammered, disbelieving.

“Yes.” Maleficent’s face softened, for a moment and barely restrained the need of hugging Aurora to comfort her and wash away her fear. It was time to let her go, for real, even if the girl didn’t know, even if she hadn’t agreed – it was time.

“Now?” Aurora asked with a feeble voice “You’re not staying for the wedding?”

“No.” Came the short answer.

The girl felt lost all at once, the energy and mirth drained from her body, replaced by a pulsing wave of panic – she’d never really been without Maleficent watching over her, her shadows had been following everywhere since she was little.

Of course, love also meant to let go. And if there was something that Ingrith had been right about, was that Maleficent, a free and wild creature of the forest and darkness, had to go against her own nature to take care of a human and raised her. Perhaps it was time for her to go back to her clan and reconnect with her people – it was just difficult to understand why it had to be _now_. Couldn’t she wait a little longer, an hour or two, so she could be there in one of the most important days of her life? The answer was clearly no, because Maleficent would never miss something like that just for a whim, risking disappointing Aurora for nothing.

Perhaps she really didn’t want to take part in the wedding because her heart tore for real at the thought of her getting married to a human. Or getting married at all. Sometimes, faeries were still a mystery for Aurora to fully understand, Maleficent above all.

Aurora swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing herself not to beg Maleficent to stay. She would have stayed and perhaps suffered just because it had been Aurora to ask. “When will you be back?”

Maleficent tilted her head as well. This time, her smile was a reassuring one, that was miraculously able to quench Aurora’s sorrow. The girl wasn’t sure if the faery was casting some sort of spell on her mood, but she didn’t dwell much on the thought when Maleficent spoke again. “When the time comes, I’ll be back.” She promised. And lied, consequently, for Aurora’s words, as she assured she'd go through and marry Philip, were a death sentence for them – but she couldn’t say that.

Aurora nodded, satisfied with the promise. After all, she knew that they couldn’t stay away from one another for long and if Maleficent felt the need to be on her own for a while, then she would let her go and would be happy for her. It was the exact same thing Maleficent was doing for her.

She threw her arms around Maleficent's neck and held her close. Behind her back, she couldn’t see that the faery had closed her eyes, basking into that moment for as long as she could – the warmth, the smell of her hair, the softness and the greedy embrace all craved into her heart for her to treasure.

When they parted, Aurora gave her a mischievous smirk, swaying gently back and forth. “So you won’t you give me away?”

Maleficent smiled affectionately. She knew the girl was talking about the human tradition of a parent giving away the daughter to the future husband, symbolically, by taking the bride to the altar. But she pretended not to get the meaning of it; after all, she wasn’t her father, nor mother – and she would never be – even if Aurora liked to think so. She hinted a grin, pointy fangs peeking beneath her upper lip, and outstretched her arm, her thumb and index finger brushing ever-so-lightly against her chin in what she believed would have to be the last time she'd touched her skin. Soft, young; so close and yet so distant. “Never, Beastie.” She whispered her voice light as the morning breeze and powerful like a storm. She restrained the need of kissing her, feeling her under her lips, just like five years ago when she awakened Aurora from the sleeping curse.

Maleficent opened her wings wide, letting the wind lift her up. The faery didn’t bid her goodbyes not to upset Aurora – the girl deserved a happy wedding, after all – but her heart was bleeding. With a bittersweet smile that Aurora couldn’t fully comprehend, Maleficent soared away and, in a blink, she disappeared beyond the highest clouds.

... 

_My breast is as cold as clay,_  
_ my breath is earthly strong;_  
_ and if you kiss my cold clay lips,_  
_ your days they won't be long._

Her voice echoed through the smooth and low walls of the cave.

Just as she was keeping tempo with the heels of her shoes, she paced forth and back within the darkroom of stone; her pupils enlarged to cope with the scarcity of light that poured in from the narrow cracks on the carved ceiling, her glance roamed undisturbed on every object displayed in front of her with a prideful grin worst-kept secret on her face.

It didn’t compare with the secret laboratory she had beneath the castle, but it was something, still equipped with everything she’d ever needed… and more: what had left of tomb flowers, enchanted berries, green moss from the purple lake, a full arsenal of long-distance weapons and iron, _iron_ of all kinds. But the most precious values stayed on the central table, under bell-shaped glass cases.

She let her fingertip brush against the first and tapped on the transparent surface, and a sudden gush of excitement washed over her, making her sigh. She would have never thought that a brown feather would have so much power inside it still

_How oft on yonder day, sweetheart.  
Where we were wont to walk,_

then, the second. She lifted the hood glass and latched her eyes with the small bush of thorns cramped up into the small space. They were about to bloom, and few buds, of a deep crimson red, were peeking on the surface. Just a little more,

_the fairest flower that ever I saw _  
_ has withered to a stalk._

The woman smiled and closed her eyes, but with a sudden, inattentive movement, she pricked her thumb on one of the smallest thorns. She inhaled sharply, almost getting angry with the unguilty plant, but when she took her offended finger to her lip and sucked the small drop of blood, the irony taste on her tongue had a soothing power on her elated spirit.

She closed back the bristled bush in its case and sighed. “How much longer?” She hissed, her subtle voice traveling fast and reverberated throughout the cave.

“It’s almost done, my Queen.” The girl promptly responded, melting the echo of her own voice with the woman's one.

Ginger hair rose up from behind a hooded mask that covered her face, and once she removed it completely to threw a prideful expression to the other, the big scar across her face bend awkwardly over her muscle movements.

The blond woman flinched, not yet used to the sight of the horrid disfiguration. Luckily, it wasn’t her beauty the one to rely on. The girl seemed to sense her repulsion, however, and hurriedly put back her mask and bowed her head to resume her work.

The older woman spun on her heels, her sharp sigh bouncing on the walls of stone. She watched herself in the mirror pinned to the widest side, narrowing her eyes as she studied her own reflection on the silvery surface.

“You’re sure it’ll work?” For a moment, the woman didn’t understand where the voice had come from. Then, moving her glance across the mirror to stare at the working girl behind her back, she tightened her jaw: since when anyone, her especially, had ever dared to question her plans? “Does the curse still live? Can it work without the needle?”

The foolishness of some humans would never cease to amaze her. That's why some were made to rule and others to serve. If Maleficent and her kind thought men were idiots, she had to agree on that, at least. Those who hadn’t know loss and had never desperately fought a real war for hunger were only half-strong, half-witted, half-motivated. But then again, that doubting girl was the only creature she had, the only one who remained and showed her loyalty to the crown and her Queen especially. Maybe she owed her a little explanation so the girl could find back the reason why they were still fighting to rise.

Returning to stare at her own image, the hair loose and covered in dirt, her once beautiful gown ripped and adapted so she could walk freely, the woman could only dream about the time she would’ve to get everything back – money, respect, power – the revenge sweet on her tongue as she would rise again and took what she owned by right. This once, however, she wouldn’t wield any crossbow or any weapon at all, for she herself was the weapon that would assure the victory. “Maleficent thinks she has vanquished her spell, but she just destroyed the spindle – the mere vessel of her wicked enchantment.” She only needed to bring the strongest of fairies to her knees, find her well-known weak spot and press on it until she’d crack. “And if it strikes again, a kiss between a so-called mother and her pseudo child won’t suffice. Not this time.”

Behind the mask, the girl smiled. A few moments later, a hearted laughed echoed inside the now loud space, then, it was replaced by the soft notes of the song once again. Now, it was bearing the fatal melody of defeat for whoever might be foolish enough to come against her.

_When will we meet again, sweetheart?_  
_When will we meet again?_  
_When the autumn leaves that fall from trees_ _  
_ _a__re green and spring up again._


	2. The Guest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any info: https://mementomori-demimonde.tumblr.com/

Chapter 2 – The Guest

Maleficent had left to live with her own kind as the happy bells of the wedding still chimed in her ears. She pretended not to listen, but each chime had almost been worse than the ones that had stroked in her heart at the sunset of Aurora’s sixteenth birthday when the curse hit the sweet girl and the world had crumbled for a long hour.

For a while, she lived with the clan, under the protection of the stone cocoon that originated all the night creature like her. News from the Moors and the Ulstead sovereigns came to her ears by whispers, passed from mouth to mouth between the winged creatures in the mere attempt of not letting her feel excluded; Maleficent smiled proudly at their statements bearing Aurora’s accomplishments, while her heart bled silently, unable to share its pain with a soul.

Soon, Maleficent realized she didn’t belong there either. She was the last Phoenix, so no clan from the desert, the tundra, or the jungle could fully comprehend her nor shared her blood; and of course, after all those years or wars and battles and awaited quietness, she could easily state that it had never been blood what bound people, nor similar appearances, but something invisible and way more powerful than that. Making peace with her own mind, Maleficent admitted that she missed the Moors, the chaotic goblins which made each day different, the majestic creatures waking her up every morning with their distant howling as they float in the clouds and the smells and the peace of those places that had been her home for all her life. Most of all, she missed Aurora – and Diaval. Probably, she wasn’t sure. They were the only ones who had stood by her side for the better and worse.

Even if she couldn’t have back the life she had before the last war, her heart longed for returning home. Just as Aurora had been nominated the Queen of the Moors even if she ruled on the land of the humans, Maleficent could still hold the crown of the winged creatures of the night and live elsewhere. After all, if they only sought peace and quiet life, live in harmony with all the worlds, there was no actual need for a ruler.

Maleficent returned in the Moors during one cold night of the last bits of winter.  
Perched on the branches of the tree right outside her cave, she let her eyes roam around the kingdom, to the villages and castles that rested on the green fields surrounding the magical land of the Moors. She could feel the quietness in her bones and that put her at peace: no more fightings, no more wars or battles for the two worlds were to be separated. Confining, together, but also forever apart.

In order to keep the Moors intact, free from the hatred and greed typical of her kind, Aurora had ordered that the two kingdoms would actually never merge. The magical folks and the humans were to live in concord, helping each other out and physically cooperating only when a great evil or crisis would hit one or the other land. She still held her golden crown to satisfy their will, but also returned their right to rule themselves like many years before, when Maleficent was only a child and none of the fae folks had never known the wickedness of humans. Her dream of the big, solid bridge sadly set aside for good.

For how much it pained her heart, Aurora was to live with her kind, in the world of men, never to set foot in the Moors again; as expected, the queen had granted passage to Maleficent only, so the faery was free to come and go between the two worlds as she pleased, but she never did. Not once.

Since her homecoming, Maleficent had pledged to her heart not to ever leave the Moors again.  
Each night, before going to sleep, the dark fae had stared at the brighter stars, unaware that Aurora, from the glass window of her beautiful palace, was doing the same, wondering what had become of the creature that held part of her heart.

Maleficent had gone back to do what she used to do before her first encounter with a human, except this once, she operated alone, hidden from everyone, like a passing spirit looking after the forest. When each tree had been healed, she would often look over the quiet piece of land that nobody had claimed and, beyond that, the vigorous river that physically divided the two worlds. That sight always put a great sadness on her soul. The awareness of not belonging anywhere hit her harder day after day: she did not belong to the Moors or its beings, not to the clan and not even to the humans – she was to be a creature forever in between, never really belong to anybody but herself.

And Aurora was just a soar away from her. Forever close, but oh so distant. How much she wished to just spread her wings and land on her balcony just for a talk, or to hug her, feeling the warmth radiating from her body that was sweeter than the first sunbeams of spring. It was almost ironical for her vicious father to have stolen a piece of her heart, filling the hole with darkness and thirst for revenge and for Aurora to have taken the remains, leaving Maleficent with nothing but a hollow, dire need that would be impossible to fulfill.

But then she’d promised, for better and for worse, to take care of her; she’d promised that no harm would have come to Aurora as long as she lived. So she had to keep that promise, watching over her from afar and rejoice at her accomplishments, even with the awareness of never being able to share any of them with her anymore.

...  


As the days passed, those becoming weeks and turning easily into months, Maleficent quietly watched the kingdoms welcoming the heat of the new season. The happy cries from the Moors only mirrored the celebration going on within the humans when the last snow melted and the first flowers began to bloom.

Maleficent was getting acquainted with her long-lost solitude, which never actually turned into loneliness for she always had Diaval by her side. After several years at his mistress’ services, he couldn’t contain the happy caws of joy when she returned; he would have never admitted that, but he missed walking on two legs when it was convenient, not to mention the times he visited Aurora even if it had been forbidden, and he had only been able to stare back into her sad eyes when the girl asked about Maleficent. It was beyond him how could they both stay apart when their hearts longed for each other and bled at the loss.

He guessed it was alright, though, for creatures like them to behave in such manner, embracing suffering when the greater good was involved – he didn’t share the thought, but he had to accept it. After all, he always had fun with calling their weird trio a ‘loving but dysfunctional family’ and supporting each other’s decision was only just part of the game.

He had to admit, however, that Maleficent was the one who needed guidance the most. She might’ve looked strong and unbreakable, but Aurora was much more resourceful than her; the dark fae had always let her emotions guide her life – vengeance and hatred above all – and now that she also had known love, the need to protect Aurora had turned into possessiveness which she had eventually overcome only for the girl’s sake. Without her, however, Maleficent was only the shadow of her old self, only half-creature in search of someone to fill the void. The dark fae could be the phoenix and the queen of the night creatures, but it had been Aurora that had given her balance from day one, she who opened her glowing eyes upon new possibilities and now – now she was gone, ready to turn the page and live her life happily ever after.

All those years just to let her go, taking care of a baby human who now seemed to mind only her kind and a kingdom of men. She’d closed the boundaries, but how could she know if someone of them really needed help? Did she really forget what it had been? Whatever her reason to separate the lands, she’d left the Moors alone. And if Aurora refused to acknowledge the damage she’d done by marrying Philip and leaving everyone who raised her behind, Diaval was certain that, sooner or later, troubles would have come knocking on the door and it would be hard for Maleficent to find another reason to fight.

Gripping his black claws around a branch, Diaval decided to get some rest after his morning patrol. For once, he didn’t carry news, not from the Moors, nor from the humans, since everything was going bright in both of the kingdoms – to be honest, it was getting quite boring. Yes, he could’ve gone with some of his kind and engage some unharmful battle for a female crow he wasn't interested in, but since Maleficent had provided him with the gift of speech, he felt superior and too smart to fight with other obtuse birds. He sighed, proving himself that he still felt and reacted differently even in his original form and forced himself to be happy about the current life in the Moors; wasn’t that what all the clever beasts wished for? Peace?

He moved his wings to contrast the swaying of his wooden perch and looked below.  
Beyond the edge of a cliff, thanks to a lonely tree that has set root on the highest mountain, Maleficent was lazily stretched out on a low branch, wider and curvier than his, providing her with a comfortable, temporary nest from which she could oversee everything.

The crow cocked curiously his head with a sharp movement and let out a complaining chirp when he noticed that she was nibbling on some berries, the first of springs, with nothing more than a bored expression on her face. Those berries would be the sweetest and most juicy of all, and Maleficent was eating them like it was no big deal.

His feathers ruffled for the unfairness and, cawing, he flew down to her, with all the intentions of bothering her until she’d share some with him. In the back of his head, Diaval knew she would have never done something kind for him just for the sake of it, that for the dark fae it was much more entraining to see him struggle than slightly happy or satisfied, but he also thought that there would be no harm in trying – and why not, serve her a little distraction from her solitary, uneventful days.

He was just about to start with his birdy pleas when something caught his attention: a foreign noise echoed up to them, a distant cry that sounded of a desperate call for help.

Maleficent peeled slowly her head from the scratchy bark of the tree, turning her gaze on the nearest creek of the river. Diaval mirrored her quickly, once again curiosity having the best of him and making him even forget about the berries.

Between the rough stream, which in that specific part of its course would grow in high waves with white, foamy crests, he could see, at times, something emerging from the waters; a confused bundle of grey, pink and a lump of yellow wheat hair. A human. Could it be possible?

Before he could even formulate his thoughts, Maleficent let out a single hum. “Oh look. It’s Queen Ingrith.” She sighed, completely unaffected by the sight of the woman struggling to keep her head above water as she screamed in utter fright.

Diaval’s little heart started to pound. Every time he thought he’d finally broken through and succeeded in knowing his mistress, something happened to prove him wrong. The old Maleficent would have let a human drown happily – especially one that had been her enemy – but the new Maleficent, the pure and incorruptible phoenix, didn’t hold grudges. _Right?_ He started to move his little eyes back and forth as Ingrith’s body got carried away and pulled under. The situation felt painfully familiar and yet he couldn’t be sure of its ending.

Loud caws came from the black bird next to her. Diaval waved its wings and flapped them into the dark fae’s face, hoping to provoke some useful reaction.

Defeated by the crow’s bothering behavior, Maleficent waved her fingers. “Into a man.” She ordered, tilting her head to the other side as she chewed more on her berries, her glowing eyes latched on the view as she was watching some kind of amusing performance. Humans and their dramas never ceased to entertain her, somehow.

“Aren’t you going to help her, mistress?” Diaval asked impatiently, a nervous smile plastered on his lips.

Maleficent swallowed the juice down her throat. “No.”

“Mistress.” Diaval continued, his tone similar to a warning. He would never let her become a murderer without honor. And to aggravate the whole matter, it was Philip’s mother the one involved – he had to do something and make his mistress reason. “What would Aurora say?”

Maleficent rolled her eyes. That was low of him – Diaval was right, yes, but mentioning Aurora and putting the girl’s disappointed and hurt face inside her mind was low.

She waited for Ingrith to roll down the waterfall and for the echoes of her yelling fill the Moors and her ears before heaving a vexed sigh. “Fine.” She scoffed.

An instant later, with just the wave of her fingers, she fished Ingrith out of the river as she was still precipitating down the waterfall and lifted her limp body up in the air, strikes of green smoke wrapping her entirely in a magical cloak.

...  


Maleficent very slowly lead the soaked wet woman to the mountain where she and Diaval stayed, the crow holding his breath for the whole time, fearing his mistress would drop the body out of the blue and justify the temporary – and certainly unintentional – loss of magic with a playful ‘ops’ and a grin.

The shock of falling down a waterfall had had a bad influence on Ingrith’s nerves, so her mind had preferred just to shut down to preserve itself; that gave Maleficent the opportunity to carry her around undisturbed and lay her down on a pen of roots she’d just made grow for the special occasion. Studying the unconscious woman from up close, she barely reminded of the old Queen Ingrith when they first met in her husband’s castle: after months of being banned from the reign, she had been stripped from all her privileges and clearly suffered the winter and the hunger. Her dress was only a rag, probably even the remains of the one she wore the day of her banishment, but since the water force seemed to have torn apart most of it, she couldn’t be sure.

The dark fae breathed in, the tip of her tongue running on the outline of her front teeth and fangs as she contemplated the situation. Ingrith’s skin was pallid and bruised – not to mention dripping wet – but it wasn’t just the river’s doing: some of those wounds were older like she’d been struggling for long and for many different reasons. An actual queen brought to her knees. She wondered what had gotten her there, what had been her deeds or who did she encounter to be thrown into a river to die, with all the possibilities.

Maleficent tilted her head and pursed her lips. She almost felt sorry for her… _almost_.

“Mistress, I think she’s waking up.” Diaval murmured with a perplexed look, backing up just for safety.

The faery put another berry into her mouth and waited.

When Ingrith began to stir, none of them moved a muscle, but the moment her eyes shot open, her pupils reducing quickly into two, black dots surrounded by pools of teal, the pair realized that they’d just brought a demon to the Moors. Instead of a meek, broken woman in search of a place, there was a fury with no intention of yielding.

Maleficent quickly wavered her fingers, making the plants grow into a cage of leaves for their and Ingrith’s own protection.

“Let me out!” The woman growled, clenching her teeth as her fingers gripped the bars of her prison until her bruised knuckles turned white.

Maleficent sighed, totally unimpressed by her behavior, and waited for the former Queen to simply calm herself down. Yet it appeared she had no intention to do such a thing. “Let me out, I warn you.”

“You warn me?” Maleficent threw her a diverted glance, her grin growing wider by the second. The woman’s attitude was so hilarious and incoherent to the faery that she almost believed it was normal, for a desperate human, to act like that. Even if a part of her could slightly consider the chance of something being wrong, she pushed it in the back of her head, preferring the amusement the woman was providing.

“Mistress.” Called Diaval with a dim voice. His anxious fidgeting made Maleficent come back to her senses and her grin died out soon, replaced by her usual, superior expression. She swallowed down another berry and slightly lifted her chin in a silent gesture to tacitly pass the word to the caged woman, whose breath was catching up, just as the rage clearly shaking her entire being – everything about Ingrith reflected her agitated spirit.

That was predictable.  
What wasn’t as predictable, however, was something else.  
Because a second later, unexpectedly, Maleficent noticed a strange gleam in her eyes, something she’d never seen or never thought she’d seen in her: the softest sparkle of fear.

“I warn you,” Ingrith growled again, narrowing her eyes into a dangerous glare. “if you don’t let me go this instant, my father will hunt you down and the other monsters of the Moors and his army will reduce to rubble and flames this sickening lands of yours!”

Maleficent stared, blinking rapidly at the sudden outburst of words she couldn’t quite comprehend. Yes, Ingrith had always been the aggressive type and the fae vaguely remembered that her hatred for the magical folks was originated by some dispute within her father’s kingdom that had lead to the prince’s death and perhaps even the king’s, but Maleficent didn’t see the reason why to bring the matter up now. And then, well, her ears were rarely wrong, but – did she talk about the deceased king as if he were still alive?

“Your father?” She asked with a flat voice; usually, it was Aurora, with her sweet talking and kind gestures, to leave her speechless, but now Ingrith had masterfully entered the competition.

The former Queen threw her a somewhat prideful glance and, raising slightly her chin with a vague hint of retrieved self-loathing, she straightened her back confidently, the previous sparkle of fright now completely gone. “I am princess Ingrith of Avalon, daughter of King George and promised bride of Prince John of Ulstead, successor to his throne. I demand to be released immediately, you horrid winged creature!”

The dark fae stared agape, truly unable to speak. Much to Diaval’s dismay, she dropped the berries all at once, without even realizing it, for all her attentions were directed to the woman she still held captive, who was shaking with silent wrath. Was that happening for real or was she just dreaming, or having one of the worst nightmares in all history? Either way, the fact was that Ingrith had seemed to have just lost the last twenty-plus years of her life.

Maleficent let out a short breath, hinting a puzzled smile with gritted teeth.  
That was surely unexpected. “Oh dear.”


	3. The Truce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any info: https://mementomori-demimonde.tumblr.com/

Chapter 3 – The Truce

It was just rare for Maleficent to be clueless and the sensation was so foreign that it spread through her body like a plague, even making her wings, usually ready to take off, weak and slurring behind her. She’d never dealt with memory loss before, either natural, nor induced by magic, but she knew it was something bad and utterly annoying to treat, especially when the victim was a hysterical, frustrated and desperate woman like Ingrith.

Maleficent sighed. Despite her first thought had been the most logical and easiest one – taking her back to the castle, to Aurora and Philip – she was also well aware that it could not work. A faery bringing a human all bruised up and missing years of life? People would most certainly claim treason and perhaps even trigger yet another useless desire to fight. Another war, perhaps, that neither of the sovereigns could prevent.

She’d worked so hard, over the years, to prove them she was not evil as they thought – only when provoked or Aurora was in danger, but that was allowed, she kept telling herself – but whenever something bad, that could remotely be linked to her, happened, they were always ready to turn their pitches in her direction. No, she couldn’t trust humans, nor rely on their good faith, assuming that men had any in their body, of course.

Unknowingly, Ingrith had her framed. What will become of her was in Maleficent’s hands now, for the woman was her responsibility. She might’ve as well let her drown in the river or smash her golden head at the bottom of the waterfall. Damn Aurora for showing the dark fae she could be kind and compassionate because it was the right thing to do – being without a conscience would’ve saved a lot of troubles but no, the girl had provided her with one.

Now she needed to help; she had to make things right or try to. Perhaps she could keep her there and wait, giving the woman’s mind time to recover itself. If Ingrith was willing to collaborate, that was.

Maleficent threw her an unimpressed look when the caged woman let out a low growl, pretending to be released once again. She seemed to be very irked by the fact that her titles and threats hadn’t had any effect on the dark fae’s mood nor manners, but of course the faery couldn’t care less.

Sooner or later she would stop acting like a fury or a mad dog or, eventually, she’d lose her voice; at some point, she would get tired and just _stop_.   
She had to admit, though, that Ingrith was revealing herself rather persistent.

“Let me down!” The woman yelled again, her fingers gripping the fibrous bars with intent, trying even to break them, perhaps, without paying any attention to the vines digging into her flesh painfully; when those only bent, her vexation increased enormously. “I command you!”

Maleficent let out another weary sigh, wrapping her fingers around her staff as she struggled to restrain herself from using magic and take away her voice or put her temporary to sleep. The latter seemed very appealing, but what would she do then? She would be back to zero.

Time to let Ingrith rant inconclusively? They had plenty, but the sooner they would start dealing with the problem in a constructive way, the better for everyone. Perhaps she could finally free herself from the burden of that woman placed in her care by a destiny with a very sick sense of humor.

The dark fae cleared her throat and to everyone dismay, it was enough for Ingrith to back up a little and – finally – silence herself, at least. Maleficent felt a rather twisted wave of pleasure and amusement at the sight of the woman staring back at her – wings and horns and dangerous glare – fearing she might’ve possibly taken her own life with just a snap of fingers.

And yet, frightened or not, the woman still managed to glare at her, narrowing her eyes again.  
Maleficent’s mouth tightened into a tensed grin, fangs flashing under the red line of her upper lip.

She had to admit that Ingrith was showing dare, which made her wings twitch in amusement: after all, she hadn’t had any entrainment of the sort in months. Bickering and playing with fire was in her nature and the former queen was giving her just what she lacked and missed, in a way. Aurora had been fun to play with, but arguing with the girl, the pixies, or Diaval wasn’t quite the same as discussing with another sour being, just like their first dinner together; Aurora had hated it, but the dark fae had secretly enjoyed the powerful wave of danger that had run through her veins.

She took a deep breath and rested her hand atop of her staff, her long, pointy nails tickling the polished and glowing globe on the top.

Ingrith tightened her jaw. “Winged demon.” She muttered under her breath in utter despise.

Maleficent’s eyes immediately sparkled in delight. “Harpy.” She replied with a flat voice, which however bore every trace of bitterness even if she’d said the word through a grin.

Diaval had turned his head in sharp movements each time they’d talked, watching in silence that awkward scuffle. It was like they’d just engaged some sort of verbal combat either one of them was determined to win.

The former queen’s eyes widened in shock and, getting closer to the vines once again, she snarled. “Witch!” She spat a moment later, her voice slightly louder.

“Brat.” Concluded the dark fae with a superior smirk, her glowing irises sparkling with shades of green and gold in quick succession, unblinking.

The last affirmation seemed to have hit something within the woman, who suddenly fell silent through a sharp sigh, after which she confined herself to a stern look.

Diaval blinked.   
Kids. The former Queen of Ulstead, a woman able to organize a war and rule an army and the most powerful among the night creatures, the last phoenix, gifted with a power beyond imagination, the one who’d saved the Moors uncountable times, were now nothing more than that: kids. It was unbelievable. If he could hide his own face behind his wing, and save himself from such an embarrassing show, he sure would have.

“Do you hate me?” Asked Ingrith all of a sudden, the expression on her face almost unreadable. Diaval could detect shock and something that reminded him of what the human called arrogance – he didn’t like it. What was she looking for? What did she think she’d get with such a question? She’d almost sounded disbelieving by her own hypothesis. As if the only thought of receiving a positive answer was the most ironical thing existing.

Maleficent gave her a puzzled look, well concealed behind a condescending expression. “Why shouldn’t I?

The former queen inhaled deeply, looking absolutely outraged. “It was your kind that killed my brother!” She replied, her chin high. “If anything _I_ should be hating _you_.”

The dark fae sighed imperceptibility and pounded once her staff on the ground without, however, creating any sort of magical charm. There was only a small thread of smokey green that flew up in the air form where the wood had hit the earth, like some sort of safety valve releasing stored energy. “I didn’t kill anybody of your family. I have nothing to do with Avalon.” Maleficent explained with a low, clear voice. She was talking about a times where the wars between the fae folks and humans were common occurrences, when men were jealous of the prosperity and of the luck of the forest creatures and wanted some, if not all, for them. Fields had been smeared in blood, lives were lost and the flower tombs bloomed everywhere in the Moors; yet it hadn’t been one of her fights. Magical lands were everywhere on earth and Avalon did not border directly with her home.

“I know your kind.” Ingrith retorted. “You hurt people.” She stated.

The dark fae inhaled, forcing some quiet in her along with the chill air inside her lungs.   
The hatred of men was even greater than hers had ever been: while she had hated Stephan and him alone for his awful deeds, the woman was hating her only because the fae had magic within her. It wasn’t fair. Yes, she wasn’t blameless since she attacked King Henry when he’d threatened the Moors, she’d killed men in the last battle against Ingrith herself, but she had reasons. It was different. “Whatever I did against humans, I did to defend myself and the Moors. Do not blame me for the guilt of others.”

That last sentence seemed to have put Ingrith into a pensive state of mind. Perhaps she was not stubborn and unable to listen as she thought.

Maleficent swallowed a small lump in her throat. She wasn’t obliged to explain Ingrith anything and yet she’d done so; perhaps Aurora and her beliefs of truth and sincerity had really set roots in her soul.  
“You should reconsider your words.” The fae suggested, reinforcing her message. “I saved your life.” She added lastly, matter-of-factly.

Ingrith blinked several times, staring blankly at the two creatures in front of her. She seemed to be considering the facts for a great while, unmoving, before letting out a frustrated but finally defeated sigh. “Would you _please_ let me down?”

Satisfied, Maleficent changed her neutral expression into a grin. “Very well.” She conceded giving her an ironical praise in the form of a smile. She then waved softly her fingers toward the cage of vines and branches still enclosing the woman.

The magic worked so well and fast that Ingrith found herself stumbling on the ground only a few instants later and with no actual time to adjust at the stupor of witnessing something that extraordinary and frightening at the same time, she fell to her knees and hands and then struggled to push herself back up.

Maleficent tilted her head to the side as she studied the woman grunting and dusting herself with her hands, with very scarce results. She was still wet from the water and now mixed with the soil, she was covered in a faint layer of mud that had stuck on her skin, hair, and clothing – if it could still be defined as a clothing since it had left one of her legs completely bare and the fabric only sufficed to hide her modesty and upper torso. Despite having blue blood running through her veins and grace and fierceness typical of nobility, Ingrith had really gone off the deep end. Quite literally too.

The dark fae tapped her nails on the globe atop of her staff, ready to cast a quick spell in case the woman had decided to attack, but she didn’t.

“What do we do, mistress?” Diaval leaned into her to whisper in her ear, his voice shaking with concern. “She needs a place to stay.”

Maleficent threw him a death glare. Surely he didn’t actually mean what he said! Yes, she was aware that Ingrith needed time to recover – was she expecting it to happen overnight? - and if she really intended to get rid of such a burden, it was her job to find a fitting place to do so. Recollecting herself with a quick twitch of her wings, she sighed and walked past the woman, still looking miserable as she struggled to remove some filth off her body.

Pitiful. In a weird way that struck a chord in her, however. “Come.” The fae commanded and without waiting for a second longer, she led the way into the woods.

Diaval and Ingirth shared a puzzled glance. “Where?” Shouted the crow, in the grip of his curiosity. When he didn’t receive any answer, he jerked and put himself to the chase, not earlier, however, than tap his palm over the clueless woman’s shoulder to spur her. “Chop-chop, princess.” He teased, for once feeling superior to being able to mock a cruel monarch. “Hurry, if you don’t want her to transform you into a goa-_caw_” Before he could finish the sentence, a swirl of magic turned him into his original form of a crow.

Widening her eyes in horror, fearing perhaps undergoing the same fate, Ingrith gasped silently and hurriedly followed Maleficent into the unknown forest to their mysterious destination.

...  
  


For once, Diaval was happy to fly around them rather than walk, since it was taking hours to reach the place where Maleficent had decided to drop the unwanted guest. After the first couple of hours of relentless cawing into her ears, Diaval had given up and stopped asking where they were going and why was she going through the woods by feet rather than just fly. He convinced himself that his mistress had to have some good reason to act that way or no reason at all besides playing with a spent Ingrith in any way she could.

The sun had almost set down when the finally reached the western border of the Moors, in the unclaimed piece of land divided yet again the men from the fairy folks, right after where the wall of thrones once stood. Diaval at first didn’t get why on earth Maleficent had made them walk in circles all afternoon just to hit the border, but then, in a flash, he remembered everything about that place: turning to his left, he could recognize the tree on which he’d napped several times, many years ago, the little lake where he caught insects and worms for his snacks and of course the cliffs and wide fields of flowers where he used to play with Aurora, barely a toddler, as she chased the pretty bird down along with multicolored butterflies. And then, lifting his glance a little, he could lastly see the old, abandoned cottage that had seen the princess grow in beauty and grace for almost sixteen years.

Maleficent walked confidently toward the little house, her glowing eyes scanning all over the neglected flower pots and roses bushes that had taken over the small lawn. Dust and thick spiderweb could be seen from the outside already, part of the wheat roof had collapsed and tables and chairs had been knocked over by the multiple storms that were clearly guilty of the several broken windows as well.

Tapping with the bottom of her staff on the wooden door to open it, which sported proudly lots of cracks, she instead completely knocked it down and jerked with a strange delight in her grin when it dropped with a squeak and a loud thud. She gave a quick look inside, waving away some of the dust that had started to roam around her face and waited for the other two to join her inside.

“This is absolute filth!” Yelped Diaval in thinly disguised horror.

Maleficent glared at him, something that the man-crow didn’t even acknowledge, too caught with his studying of the place. It was a shame that this cozy cottage had been forgotten over the years.

“You can stay here.” The dark fae conceded, bearing nothing more than a condescending expression on her face. “Goodnight.” She offered. Without further notice, she walked toward the collapsed door, stepping carelessly on it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Finally she’d found a place to leave her; her job was done. After all, did Diaval really think she’d let Ingrith stay in the Moors? Perhaps share a tree or a cave with her, even. There were no possibilities for that, or something similar, to happen.

“You’re going to leave me here?” Ingrith cried out, seconds before the dark fae had exited the little house, making her stop right on the doorway. “By myself?”

Maleficent’s wings twitched with irritation. There was more? Wasn’t she supposed to be grateful already? She couldn’t believe that a woman who was ready to fight for her life just hours ago and was insulting her with no remorse was now asking to hold her hand through her first night into an unknown land of fair folks. Humans were unbelievably lunatic. And she thought Aurora was a moody teenager – Ingrith was revealing herself even worse.

“Perhaps she’s right.” Murmured Diaval under his breath, scratching his pointy nose as his eyes were locked on the blond woman inspecting the cottage with a critical look. Clearly she’d been used to wealth and comfort all her life – they couldn’t be sure about the last period, but still – and that had to be quite the change for her. If they’d leave Ingirth unsupervised, she could do something crazy, attempt to cross the river to reach other men and drown for real, or what if she was trying to escape from someone and her enemies would find her? The former Queen was now in their care, what if something bad happened to her, what would they say to Aurora and Philip, then? Or better, him. For sure Maleficent would’ve made him the messenger for such news. _Not the point_. Diaval shook his head stubbornly: he was getting carried away. “It’s not wise, mistress.” He whispered, summoning his stream of thought the best he could; they just couldn’t leave Ingrith alone for a long list of reasons, there was no more to say.

“Wise?” Repeated Maleficent with a snarl, the word escaping her lips through a narrow gap. Diaval vigorously nodded. “I trust you are aware that I will most certainly _not_ sleep here.” The dark fae said, spelling every word out for both Diaval and Ingrith.

“I’ll stay.” The crow-man announced with a wince, already conscious that he would probably regret his decision in a matter of minutes.

Maleficent, however, gave him a grin. “Very well.” She declared and, with a wave of her fingers, she turned him into his bird form and, slower, fixed everything that needed fixing in the cottage. It looked the same as twenty years ago – even the door returned to its place, equipped also with a new knocker ready to use.

Ingrith sighed in relief at the sight of the fluffy bed just feet away from the mantel but didn’t dare to move a muscle. Swallowing slowly the lump in her throat, which had increased enormously due to her thirst and tiredness over the journey that had led them there, the woman moistened her chapped lips with her tongue before speaking. “Thank you-” She tried to say, but Maleficent cut her mid-phrase.

“But don’t come crying to me when she plucks all of your feathers.” She warned, throwing a glare over the crow. He knew it was the closest thing to ‘call me if anything’s wrong’ he would ever get from his mistress, especially in a situation like this.

She stared at the woman, unmoving, for what it seemed like a century. Was she really doing it? It was all so familiar that she felt a pang in her stomach for the infinite possibilities; it had happened before: willingly or not, she was taking care of the person she thought she hated the most.

Spreading her wings, Maleficent prepared for the lift-off, but didn’t go far.  
In the end, she stood right outside the cottage all night watching in, perched on a tree just like many years ago.


	4. The Kinship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any info or question: https://mementomori-demimonde.tumblr.com/

Chapter 4 – The Kinship

Maleficent had always loved the smells lingering around the untouched lands of the Moors in the wee hours: the air was dew, bearing the faint musky scent and the titillating one of the sweet flowers about to bloom at the sunbeams. She could hear the sound of the morning creatures waking up, the minuscules wings of the pixies flutter around as they left their nests and the water nymphs playing on the water from the rivers to the lake.

Would Aurora have such an awakening? Or was she already accustomed, by now, to servants pulling her curtains and calling her out from her slumbers with trays of steaming beverages and freshly made bread? Had the pleasures of humans already entered her heart and replaced the primordial beauty of the Moors?

She sighed, feeling inconsolable and suddenly feeling sorry for herself at the possible loss of Aurora. It was like she gained awareness of it little by little and each time it only got worse. But after all, how could she accept such things, when Aurora had been all her life for so long? First, there was the friendship of a boy, the broken promises of a young man, the betrayal and, for such a long time, what she thought had been hatred and vengeance. What she didn’t know, was that she’d almost forgot the reason why her heart had turned black. Aurora alone, unwillingly, had been able to bring light into her existence again. For sixteen years she’d protected the girl, taught her everything she knew and now that she was off on her own, loving… someone else, there was nothing left for her to do other than contemplate the hollowness of her present and future.

And what would she do when in a few years she’d hear Diaval coming back with the news of children? Would she hate the younglings as well, as she did with their mother? Not moved by wrath, this time, but jealousy? Would she become the villain the reign wished for so desperately yet another time?

She closed her eyes, breathing in the soothing, chilly air and filling her lungs as far as she could. Maybe she fell asleep – she wasn’t sure – but when she opened them back again, because of the squeaky noise that suddenly made her ears twitch, the sun was almost completely out and the day, in the Moors, had clearly begun.

Blinking away her temporary state of drowsiness, she lowered her glance and noticed that the cottage’s door had been opened. Maleficent tilted her head, resting her neck on a branch behind her and stared in wait.

Ingrith stumbled out the door a few instants later, messy hair and grumpy face, which she was struggling to shield from the apparently blinding sun with her hands, grunting in complain. She looked around utterly confused, then roamed around the cottage until she saw the small garden where the pixies used to grow food and started to stare at it with a blank look. After a solid minute of absolute nothing, she spun on her heels and started to high-step with a steady pace into the nearby wood.

When she heard Diaval cawing and flapping its wings frenetically as he tried to chase the fugitive woman, Maleficent leaped off her tree and landed in front of him, transforming the raven into his human form. He stumbled forward, frowning to let his mistress know, for the thousandth time, that he hated when it happened like that – he hated to be transformed in general, but specifically when she turned from one form into the other in mid-air when there was no emergency to do so.

“Well?” She urged.

“_Well_ – good morning to you, mistress.” He replied, straightening his jacket angrily. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to chase our guest.”

“She won’t go far.” Maleficent assured, her voice totally even. “I cast a spell around the cottage so no humans can go out and no humans can come in.” She explained with a weary sigh, then, striking an invisible enemy by pounding her staff on the ground, she glared at him. “Now, tell me how did it go.”

Diaval frowned, his jaw hanging loosely as he thought of something meaningful to report. “Oh, well, it went good.” He mumbled with a somewhat unsure tone.

Maleficent let out a frustrated snarl. “What did she do, Diaval.” She specified, considering, for a moment, to extend that question to him as well, since his behavior was becoming suspicious.

“She – er, slept.” Diaval confessed lastly, scratching behind his ears. “And I’m not used to watching over someone overnight anymore, so I fell asleep too.” He confessed, averting his eyes.

“She slept?” Parroted Maleficent with a lost grimace. She didn’t know why or how she was expecting something more exciting than just a quick story about how they went to bed. She stood up watching in for hours, but then decided to sleep when she could see anything anymore and the fire from inside the mantel had long gone. Still, it sounded strange that someone like Ingrith, memory loss or not, hadn’t done any planning at all or just complained about something as a sort of bratty bedtime story. “Only that?”

Diaval nodded, almost guilty to be the messenger of something so apparently disappointing to his mistress. “I guess she was exhausted.” When Maleficent crooked her eyebrow, the crow cleared his throat, preparing to explain. “You know, first the river, the waterfall – and we don’t even know what took her there! Then walking all day cause we took the longest way to the cottage and you looking all spooky and-” He swallowed, biting his tongue when his mistress flinched, slightly offended, upon being mentioned. “you’ve got my point.”

The fae paused, studying him for a moment. He might’ve been right, but the unnecessary walk had just been an act of small revenge for everything she’d done to everyone. And frankly, the night on her own, with a powerless raven by her side, unaware of the greater danger lurking just outside her shelter, had only just been a test. Now that she had another proof of Ingrith’s good intentions and genuine loss of memory and the consequent need of help, Maleficent could try and trust her a little bit more. “I suppose you can stay around and call me if there’s any improvement.”

“Are you going to leave, mistress?” Diaval grimaced, secretly looking around for Ingrith with the corner of his eye. “I may not be the perfect keeper for someone like her, you know. Aurora was just a child, she only needed some rocking of her crib and fresh honey flowers, this is different and quite honestly I don’t think she went around looking for bugs or worms like I would do and I fear she might poison herself with the wrong berries-”

“You’re rambling.” Maleficent cut him off drily.

“I think she’d hungry, mistress.” Diaval explained, wondering, for a moment, if the area the fae had enchanted was actually wide enough for the woman to get lost.

Maleficent threw him an unimpressed glance. “Why is that my concern?”

The man-crow straightened his back and moved his shoulder as if he still had wings in his human form and he was ruffled them to show his disapproval. “You can’t save her one day and let her starve the other, it doesn’t work like that.”

Did she forget how he became his loyal servant and the fae his mistress? It was the same: Maleficent had saved him from being beaten up to death and pulled Ingrith out of the waters. Just like himself, now Ingrith belonged to her and Maleficent had responsibilities over the woman. Prevent someone’s death was an oath for life, not something to do lightly.  
That was the code.

Maleficent’s eyes glowed with a sparkle of ire. “I saved her from drowning and I gave her a place to stay.” She said, matter-of-factly, clenching her jaw. “Last time I checked she was an adult, a fully grown one to be exact, so I say she can manage on her own.” She sentenced and, walking pass by him, she stretched her wings, apparently ready to take flight.

Diaval, however, jogged backward and stopped her with his own body. “That’s not quite my point, mistress.”

Maleficent let out a frustrated sigh and closed her eyes into an invisible, lazy roll.

When she tried to resume her walk he followed her still, with his usual expression swinging from resolute to uncomfortable since he was talking back to his own mistress – a fae that had the power to make him mute for the rest of his miserable life, for one.

Eventually, Maleficent gave up and stopped in front of him, battled between yelling to move aside or just listen to his meaningless cawing and get done with Ingrith and his unexpected obsession toward the insufferable woman. “Then what _is_ your point, Diaval.” She spat.

Satisfied, the man hinted a smile. “This could be her second chance, mistress.” He said, trying to make her reason. “She’s like a blank canvas, now.”

Maleficent let out a snarl. “You’re being delusional.” She said, her wings slowly dropping. How could she not know about what was in Ingrith’s heart, since it was the same thing that resided in her own? Didn’t the fae know about that lingering hatred that was always just waiting for the right sparkle to start a fire? Diaval didn’t know, innocent, fair creature, about the violence and the brutality of the world and even though he’d known wars and death by her side, the will to fight and kill the enemy just for the sake of doing it didn’t belong to him.

“It’s in her blood, Diaval. Eventually, she will remember. She’s never going to change.”

The temporary loss of memory had erased the last war, but the hatred for the fair folks was still inside her. Her violent temper had remained. Her teal eyes were still cold and didn’t bear any strike of innocence whatsoever. Defeat, perhaps and resignation.

“You did.” Diaval replied tentatively. “You did change, mistress. Because you had Aurora.” At the mere mentioning of the girl’s name, the fae’s wings twitched, her whole self more alert as if Aurora would indeed be near to whisper in her ears and guide her, still. “She showed you the way, maybe this is your turn to do the same for another.”

That she was someone to mold from zero, no, she didn’t believe it, but maybe someone to put on the right path, yes, that was more doable. And yet, the fact that destiny had entrusted her with Ingrith’s life and well-being, just made her blood boil. She couldn’t think clearly.

What was she supposed to do now? Follow her through the wood, fed her every day, teach her what berries would be good and which would kill her in minutes? Giving her clothes and comfort her through the night? Treat her enemy like once she’d treated her sweet- “You’re hallucinating, Diaval.” She breathed out in the end. “I do not have compassion within me. I should bring her to the castle and deal with the wrath of those untrusting men later.”

“I’ve never seen you shy away in front of a challenge, mistress.” The man retorted, a faint, knowing smirk plastered on his thin lips. When the fae rose her fingers, ready to use her magic upon him, he bit the inside of his cheek. “Think of me like your conscience: you can turn me into a beetle if you like, but you won’t stop hearing my voice.”

For a moment, Maleficent wanted to reply but soon found herself at a loss of words. Maybe it was time to repay Aurora and be kind, like the girl wanted, and help the others, even if they didn’t have magic inside them. Maybe it was time to show her new tolerance toward humans.

She inhaled deeply and lowered her arm.

“You know it’s the right thing to do.” Diaval mumbled through a smile. “And who knows, she might surprise you.”

_Years ago._

Maleficent didn’t know what to expect. The news of humans at the border always awakened horrible memories in the back of her mind, making her shake with disgust and everlasting hatred for those men who dared steal from innocent, defenseless people in their home.

Those who had seemed innocuous, in the past, had revealed themselves like the most vicious ones, so whenever someone threatened to violate the Moors, they had to encounter her merciless wrath first. She’d promised not to let anyone cross the border ever again, no one would steal gems or magical flowers and no human would taste their berries or drink their sweet water. No one except Aurora.

That curious little Beastie that only months ago had wished to see what lied behind the thorns wall because her heart sought to be marveled by the secret beauty that stood there. Aurora never once wished to take anything from the Moors, nor from the fair folks, but only wished to befriend them, sneak out of her room when the pixies slept to play with them for hours, and learn and be charmed for every little thing, undisturbed.

If only all men would be like her. Without greed and thirsty of power or glory, or blood in their case. When their weapon didn’t suffice, they sought help in magic, robbing everything they could from them, hoping that good magic would make them triumph through violence. Would the hunger and avidity of the human ever stop?

Gripping tightly her fingers around her loyal staff, Maleficent prepared herself to walk closer to the wall, her ears at the hearing for any suspicious noise.

Diaval, few meters above the ground, was flying around her head, in and out repetitively as he cawed things to his mistress to let her know that they had a clear field. Not that it would’ve been a problem, of course, with just a wave of her hand, men would fly away, directly into the river and taken to their magic-less land by the stream, but also she didn’t fancy beating up humans now that Aurora had broken though her thick layer of coldness. The girl always seemed gentle and loving, the portrait of grace and innocent and those, despite all, were her kind. The fae had promised herself and Aurora, in a silent pledge, never to hurt anybody if not strictly necessary.

Also, Aurora would be arriving soon to spend the evening together. Maleficent couldn't bear to let her witness to a possible fight. She was far too young for her eyes to known violence and she wasn’t prepared to know about the brutality that laid within the heart of the one she called Godmother. But, most of all, Maleficent wasn’t ready to watch her azure eyes fill with tears of disappointment and betrayal.

In Aurora’s eyes, everything was good and beautiful. She was not sixteen yet – she still had time to dream. Like the one the girl had chosen as her protector, it was her job to keep her from anything that might scare or upset her, was it not?

Heaving a sigh, hoping she would get deal with the situation quickly, Maleficent prepared herself to cross the border, but just as soon as she waved her hand to make the thorns recede and grant her passage, Aurora’s grinning face greeted from the other side.

“Beastie?” She called with an uneven voice, frowning at the surprise of having her there. Timing was certainly not one of her best qualities: either she was terribly late or inconveniently early.

Aurora just smiled back at her, pushing back the hood from her head and letting free golden locks to fall on her shoulders.

“I’ve made you cookies!” She said enthusiastically, raising the basket that hanged from her bent arm. Since Maleficent’s expression hadn't yet changed, the girl walked through the narrow passage first, eager to hug the faery and spend the rest of the day in her company. “Don’t worry, it’s not my aunties’ recipe.” She said with a diverted giggle, memories of that particular morning flashes through both of their minds when Diaval had been the only one who appreciated the spider-flavored biscuits. “I used the berries you gave me, I know they’re your favorite, Godmother.”

Parting from their quick but fond hug, Aurora still tried to read the mysterious expression on the fae’s face. It was quite strange to find her at the border, now that she thought of it.

After weeks of screaming her name whenever she wanted to visit the land of the Moors, Maleficent had charmed the thorns so that Aurora – and Aurora only – would have granted passage without needing any magical, external assistance. Hence, there was no need for her to be there. Also, the fae hated leaving her home – did she ever, when not forced? Her presence there was odd, to say the least.

“Were you going somewhere, Godmother?” She asked with a little frown.

Maleficent forced herself to give the girl a reassuring smile. “I’ll be back soon, Beastie.” She said. “Go along.” She suggested, gesturing with a quick nod of her head to go further, where she would be safe with Baltazar and the other guards, in case something went wrong and under the protection of the other fair creatures as well.

Aurora, however, had lost her enthusiastic grin and was looking at the fae with intent. “Let me come, Godmother. I want to help you.” She said firmly, courage flaring into her azure eyes.

Maleficent sighed, considering it for a moment. If she wouldn’t consent the girl to come with her on the mission, she’d probably follow her anyway in secret and put herself in greater danger. Unrelenting little Beastie. She knew that glare. Aurora had had that determined face the first time she tried to climb up the Rowan tree and risk breaking her neck in the process – she didn’t know fear nor good judgment when she made her own mind. “Very well.” The fae sighed, making Aurora beam. “But you need to stay close to me.”

“I’ll never leave your side, Godmother.” The girl stated proudly, already taking her position, their arms brushing closer at each step they took.

Maleficent smiled back at her. How she wished for those words to be true.

“So, what are we after?” Aurora wondered, struggling a bit to keep up with Maleficent’s wider and surer strides.

The fae was scanning the area with attentive eyes, constantly checking for the girl to be within reach in case something happened. It was one of the many times she missed her wings dearly. Over the years, she’d almost forgot how they felt on her back, the power they gave her, the possibilities and the fierceness of a real fae. Now she only had magic inside her, but she felt incomplete. Only half of herself – missing something all the time. Her wings could’ve saved Aurora from her cruel future. Because, what if she’d encountered years ago and the girl would’ve laid her eyes upon her beautiful wings? Aurora would have never wanted to part from such a mighty creature that could protect her from anything. But then, perhaps, there would be no Aurora in the first place and her life, again, hollow.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself not to let her mind hovering on the possibilities of different realities because it was quite useless to dwell on something that could not be, especially when they were on such an important mission. And Aurora would want her to- _where_ was Aurora?

Reaching blindly behind her and finding nothing, the fae started to look frantically for her. How could she have disappeared in an instant? Golden hair and pink dress, how could she camouflage so good inside the green tress? The girl loved to play but also knew that it wasn’t the right time – she would never joke under such circumstances.

“Aurora?” She called, thinking that upon hearing her own name and not the one she gave her would instantly draw the girl’s full attention.

“I think I found something, Godmother!” A faintly distant voice replied.

Maleficent heaved a sigh she didn’t know she was holding, battled between relief and anger for the broken promise of staying close. Would she have to scold Aurora? She’d never done such thing, before.

Hurrying to Aurora, who had somehow preceded her toward a little patch of green grass surrounded by low bushes and young trees, Maleficent gathered up all her magic and channeled it on the tip of her fingers, ready to use it at the very first sign of danger.

Aurora was inspecting a rather suspicious net hanging from a small oak branch, filled with berries and sweet fruits. It was clearly a trap for some of the fair folks. Common animals wouldn’t be interested in such food – and yet, even if the bait was specifically made for the Moors creatures, the trap itself was not.

In an instant, Maleficent’s eyes caught the shiny reflection of some wire and, only seconds later, the hidden mechanism on which Aurora’s foot was about to lay. Widening her eyes in horror, the scene of Aurora being hit by the large trunk settled above her head and the snapping device clawing her ankle already happening inside her head.

“Be careful, Aurora!” She cried out, trying to make the trap harmless with her magic, to no results. Still in the line of fire, Aurora struggled to comprehend anything that was happening and just stood immotile, trying to be as less in the way as possible, unaware that she was only making things worse.

In a blink, she saw the fae charging in her direction. With a corner of her eye she also spotted the trunk about to hit her and, unable to do anything else, she just shut her eyes close and prepared herself for the impact.

Her head was spinning and her ears filled with an annoying buzz, but her heart was beating louder. Shaking her head, Aurora struggled to push herself up as her eyes focused on what was around her after the unexpected, violent collision. The trunk was dangling freely in the air, fast, sign that luckily it hadn’t it anything nor anyone, but the other trap had snapped.

Aurora gasped at the sight of Maleficent lying on the ground, her eyes glowing of a brilliant shade of green as she shook in pain, trying to free herself from the metal that gripped one of her ankles. The iron was glowing as if it was made of pure fire, cutting through her boot, hurting her skin, burning her flesh.

Maleficent tried to unclasp the toothed device, but her fingers could not touch the metallic surface without burning as well. Her magic was powerless. That all ambush hadn’t been made for the little creatures, nor the pixies or the guardians that didn’t suffer the contact with steel. The fair folks were safe: that trap had been made especially for her. Was Stephan finally preparing himself to strike? Did he believe that killing her was the answer to all his prey? If she had to die to break the curse, she would kill herself, gladly – unfortunately, it didn’t work that way.

“Stay still.” Whispered Aurora out of the blue, pulling the fae abruptly from her thoughts. The girl was struggling to keep herself calm, frantically looking for sticks that she could slide between the metal and her ankle for leverage; apparently there were none. Trying to think fast and failing, Aurora finally dropped her basket and launched herself on the trap, gripping each side to force it open.

“Stop Aurora,” Protested the fae, squirming in pain as the iron sewed into her skin. “you’ll hurt yourself.”

Aurora didn’t listen. It was because of her inattention and her complete lack of promptness that Maleficent had hurt herself. Pushing with all her might, the sharp teeth of the trap cutting through her palms as well, she finally managed to create enough room for Maleficent to ease her foot out. The trapped snapped back instants later, this time on nothing more than air.

Still upset and short of breath, Aurora barely resisted the urge to throw herself into the fae’s arms and made her swear never to leave the Moors again. Since the night she’d decided to reveal her face to the girl, letting her know the creature that had watched over her from the beginning, Aurora had always felt safe whenever Maleficent was around and each day she would think of something to pay her back, somehow.

Now that she had, the girl was feeling a sense of pride blooming inside of her. For once, she had been the one who helped and protected. “Are you alright?” She asked, her voice faltering with concern. She still felt upset about what had happened and her brain felt incredibly cramped. “Let me... wrap your ankle.” The girl proposed, digging her hands inside her basket searching for something useful.

Maleficent grasped her wrist with her hand. When their eyes met, she was able to soothe her agitated spirit with just a reassuring glance and the hint of a smile. “It won’t be necessary, Beastie.” Waving her free hand, she first healed Aurora’s scratches on her palm and, without summoning physically any thread of magic, her skin started to heal on her own. “Thank you.”

Aurora, however, was not smiling or beaming as the fae was expecting. Normally, she would giggle in awe upon such miraculous use of magic, so different and unexpected in the world of humans that those three pixies were trying to recreate for the unknowing princess.  
Her face was gloom, her azure eyes watery and full of tears.

“What is it, Beastie?” She asked with a dim voice, reaching out with her hand to cup her cheek. “It’s alright now.” She reassured, hating herself for a moment for having scared the girl, and hating men more because they provoked everything in the first place.

“I’d be so lonely and scared if something happened to you.” She slurred through a restrained sob. All that time, she thought Maleficent as an invincible creature and yet, just like everyone else, she had her weaknesses. For as absurd as it was, somehow, they could compensate for each other. The fae’s contribution could seem greater, but in that case, she would’ve been lost without Aurora. She had been important too, crucially so.

“Nothing will happen to me.” Maleficent whispered back, welcoming the girl when the girl slid her arms around her neck. Breathing in the sweet scent of her hair, she desperately wished to be able to stop time. It was not her the one in danger. She was not the one who had been cursed.

“I won’t let it happen.” Aurora mumbled resolutely, pulling back to stare into the fae’s glowing and questioning eyes. “You’ve looked after the Moors entirely on your own for so many years and you’ve taken care of me my whole life. It’s my turn now.” She explained.

“Oh?” Maleficent raised her eyebrows, her heart leaping inside her chest. Was it possible for a fair creature to be so fond of a human? Had it ever happened before?

Aurora beamed, clearly proud of herself and excited about her own plan for the future.  
“You saved me countless time and I have now just started paying you back.” She stated. “We belong together now, fairy godmother. It’s how it works.”

Maleficent nodded and, hating to disappoint the hopeful girl, she gave her a smile.

If only Aurora knew.

If only she hadn’t been blinded by hate to create an easier loop, or had been more powerful to break her own curse.

If only they’d had more time.


	5. The Affinity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any info or question: https://mementomori-demimonde.tumblr.com/

Chapter 5 – The Affinity

She had promised Diaval to take care of Ingrith – or at least try to – and just as that request had come from Aurora herself, Maleficent had devoted herself to the cause, even if it seemed hopeless. Because yes, the woman seemed to have grown meeker each day, but there was a fire still that made her quite rebellious and arrogant; though it came from fright and dislike of the unknown land she had found herself in, Ingrith was proving herself more clingy and demanding than she should have been.

Just as Diaval had predicted, the resemblance between Ingrith and the fae, differing simply because the latter had magic within her, worked like a reassuring mechanism in her brain. Perhaps she was just scared of the mysterious creatures that lied in the Moors, of which she only had heard about but never seen with her own eyes, and the tales about their wrath and bloodthirst battled inside her head creating a negative idea that was almost impossible to ignore. After all, Maleficent guessed that every mortal would be unquiet at the thought of horrible beings that could come and kill her with claws and sharp teeth as soon as she’d turn her back.

The fae wondered if it was her job to provide for her in that way as well. She gave her a place to stay, clothing, food, everything a creature needed to survive respectably and yet she felt that it wasn’t all. Because if she really wanted to give her a chance to prove herself changed and unwilling to kill every moving thing around her that didn’t belong to the world of men, Ingrith also had to experience that part of the Moors she still feared. She had to prove her wrong, making her understand that, like all creatures, the fair folks only killed humans when they were threatened.

Well, perhaps she would talk to Ingirth in the evening about the possibilities of taking her to the core of the magical land, know the pixies and the trolls and all the other peaceful beings she hadn’t hesitate to trap just months before.

Maleficent sighed heavily. If she really wanted to give her a chance, as hard as it was, she really had to try and forgive her – forget, that would be hard too, but with time, perhaps, the new Ingrith would be able to make it up for her own past.

Throwing one last glance over the quiet cottage, she stood up and widened her wings, ready to take off, when a voice caught her attention, so suddenly that the fae flinched, risking tripping over the branch and an ungraceful fall to the ground.

“Where are you going?”

Lowering her glance and glaring at the woman standing below, Maleficent leaped off and landed on her feet, agile like a cat and silent as a feather. She stretched her back and wings, towering Ingrith with a stern look on her face.

They stood silent for a while, Ingrith coughing a little with narrowed eyes as she tried to fight the sudden gush of wind that had hit her as best as she could.

Maleficent felt her stomach constricting at the thought that, maybe, the woman was aware of her accommodation for the night. She’d sent Diaval as a crow each time, but also stood out, perched on her old tree, like she was waiting for something to happen, as if her loyal companion wouldn’t suffice if something happened – almost as if her own magic, the safe, human-free area she created around the cottage, didn’t suffice.

And yet Ingrith seemed awfully calm about being guarded by a dark fae at night. So calm in fact, that she had gotten out of the cottage early in the morning, at the time when Maleficent usually left to patrol over the borders, and with her hand over her forehead as a shield for the lazy morning sun, she walked to her tree without hesitation.

The fae glared again, a sharp breath leaving her nostrils, as she was unsure how to act or what to say. She didn’t want to admit her presence and yet there was no need to deny it, risking making everything worse. Maybe she was just thinking too much, as usual.

“Diaval will stay with you while I’m gone.” She stated formerly.

“I know.” Ingrith sighed, rolling her eyes. “Just like yesterday. I was wondering where do _you_ go all day?”

“I have a kingdom to protect.” She replied dryly, crooking an eyebrow. To be a Queen – the daughter of a Kings, for now – she seemed to be clueless about the duties of a responsible leader.

Ingrith inhaled sharply, crossing her arms in a flicker of pride. “A kingdom of murderous monsters.” She muttered under her breath. “They do _not_ need protection.”

“I believe I could say the same for your kind.” Retorted Maleficent, fangs peeking under her lip and eyes wide, glowing of a bright green.

The woman snarled but didn’t reply. “You have a peculiar way to hold your prisoners captive.”

“Captive?” The fae parroted, blinking in confusion. “You’re not my prisoner.”

Ingrith frowned deeply, her lips parting slowly as the brand new information washed over her. “I’m not your prisoner?” The woman repeated dumbly herself.

Maleficent knitted her brow, feeling slightly offended by the implication. They had engaged a game she didn’t particularly like. Yes, she supposed she could’ve given the wrong idea when she cocooned her into a natural cage upon her arrival and that the human-free area could also look like a jail – full of comfort and everything she might’ve needed but nonetheless a jail from which she couldn’t escape. The fae had done everything to keep her safe, but the impression Ingrith had got was entirely another.

“I’m not keeping you here so I can ask a ransom or trade your life in exchange of peace.”

“Then _why_ am I here?” Asked the other, her voice barely above breath. “You saved me from the river, but now I feel good, why don’t you just send me back home?” She paused, clearing her throat. “I’ll ask my father to leave the Moors to their own business if that’s what you want. You’re not all monsters, I get that now.”

Home. As if there was still one. Maleficent remembered the first time she went back to the Moors, after days her parents had commanded her to stay hidden in the highest cave of the highest mountain and, upon her return, she’d found herself alone, orphan, in a land that was recovering from loss and was mourning thousands of innocent lives. The great war the fae remembered had destroyed Ingrith’s home years ago, hence her past – that now was all her present – had been erased for good. The void one felt upon the loss of her home and family didn’t differ from the heart of a fair child to the one of a mortal woman; Ingrith, as no one, deserved that.

“There are things that are beyond our comprehension.” Maleficent said, her voice unfaltering, firm and yet strangely gentle. Unable to bear the woman’s confusion and also unable to quench her thirst for knowledge, the fae spread her wings, hovering above the ground. “For now, I need you to trust my judgment. In time, all will be clear.” She offered, hoping that the other would be satisfied with that, even if it was far from enough.

Ingrith narrowed her eyes, fighting the winds Maleficent was sending her with her wings.

“Do I have a choice?” She shrugged, once again proving her state of prisoner, whatever the fae preferred to call it.

“Stay here.” She ordered and, eager to relieve herself from such pressing situation, she flew off into the sky.

  
  


Maleficent hated to feel confused.

The first time she ever was, it had been because of Stephan, when his absence and silence had left her hollow for years to wonder and hope and dreams of things that could never be, of a world where faeries and humans could coexist in harmony; of the same world that would be only decades after their encounter, thanks to his own daughter, a girl so pure of heart that had erased the old hate with just a smile.

The second time had been with Aurora, the horrid King’s spawn that she was supposed to despise and instead raised as her own, took good care of her and loved her beyond every wild imagination.  
With her, the dream of the two worlds united had come real and, to her great wonder, through the only thing that Maleficent didn’t believe to exist: true love.   
However, precisely because there were many kinds of love, and she had discovered most of theirs shades with Aurora, it hadn’t been the love she dreamed of to share with the one person.

And now – now there was Ingrith. Just as the little girl had taught her kindness and love and thrown off he whole beliefs, the former Queen of Ulstead, with her hidden need of guidance and lost eyes, had a strange grip on the heart that Aurora had thawed out. Why did her Beastie provided her with human emotion, showing the beauty of caring for someone? Only so she could feel compassion toward every living being, Ingrith included? Was her true nature protect for others, despite what everybody said about faeries? And then, why did the humans think that her kind wasn’t able to love, when there were families in the clan and children who relied on their adults? It was just wrong to assume that magic could somehow replace basic emotions.

Fighting the headwinds with the minimum effort, she took herself over the mountain and, locking her eyes below, she started to lazily fly over the borders, filling her lungs with the soothing, chilly air that worked as a cleanse over her brain as well.

For a moment, she felt the urge to break the oath she’d pledged to herself and pay a visit to Aurora, but then, the pangs in her heart held her back.

There was a reason why she’d made such promise, depriving herself of he Beastie’s smile and laugh and company – because Aurora had pledged herself to another and if the fae couldn’t have her completely, well, then she preferred not to have her at all, but just living in her memories and dreams that could never be. Her kind was not only capable of love, but they did it more passionately, in a primordial greedy way of possession and obsession that, in other times, had made Aurora felt caged and pushed them apart. Maleficent didn’t want her to suffer again. It was better for everybody just to let time heal the wounds.

Perhaps, Ingrith was sent to her because, after Aurora, her mission had becoming helping others – more specifically humans in need – with her sarcastic, pushy and unconventional way. And even if that wasn’t all a cruel trick of destiny, did she really have something better to do, now that her Beastie was Queen of a real realm to rule? After all, that wasn’t a goodbye what would last forever. She would have to send back the recovered Ingrith, eventually, and then, when her heart would still and accept the final loss of Aurora, then everything would go back to normal.

Maleficent took one last breath and steered left, her wings cutting through the air as it was a living, tangible thing, and feeling somewhat lighter, she turned back.

  
  


Diaval only heard a dull thud behind him. Without looking, and smiling at the familiar slipstream of air that happened behind his back, the man-crow shifted slightly left leaving more room for the fae. He stood silent, and when Maleficent walked closer him, he warned to keep quiet by placing his finger on his lips, the way Aurora taught him.

Maleficent frowned but obeyed, particularly curious to find out what had provoked such teasing grin and satisfied gaze on her loyal servant. Narrowing her eyes, however, she could only see Ingrith’s back as she crouched down by a dense bush that didn’t look interesting at all. What was so special about that? Was the fae supposed to expect something?

Sighing in annoyance, she slightly turned to Diaval, quickly calculating their distance from the woman to modulate the volume of her voice so she could talk without disturbing whatever she was trying to do.

“I take there’s been no improvement?” Asked Maleficent.

The other, slightly leaning into her, shrugged softly, unsure what the fae was after, exactly. “She wanted to see how far she could go without bumping into her human-free shield, and the area it’s quite large, I have to admit.” He said in a loud whisper that bent awkwardly his voice. “It was her idea to come back. I just had to follow her around, she’s much more predictable and easy to follow than a toddler, I can assure you.” He frowned, sighing away the memory. Then, she tilted his head to his mistress and offered her a prideful expression. “Still, there are lots of things that could upset her and slow her recovery, so I made sure she’d keep away from the water surfaces, and prevent her to get scared in case she’d spot her own reflection.”

“She’s not that ugly.” Maleficent replied almost instinctively, unable to suppress a delighted grin at the thought of Ingrith screeching in horror upon seeing herself much older than she obviously remembered.

“That’s not what-” Scoffed Diaval, shaking his head only when he realized it was part of one of her old jokes. At least, there was something going back to normal. “Look.” He whispered suddenly.

Maleficent focused her attention on the woman and couldn’t suppress a gasp when she saw a young reindeer, with a pearly white coat, making its way out of the bush and pushing his hairy nose on Ingrith’s palm to feed on the berries she was offering. In a flash, she saw herself, and Aurora doing exactly the same. The memories were so similar that, for an instant, Aurora’s face and Ingrith, with her hair down and peaceful expression, overlapped.

Maleficent blinked in confusion: those animals only approached the purest souls. It was liberating, in a way, that the Moors and its creatures were giving her signals.

“It’s disturbing.” Diaval murmured, tilting his head ad he bent his lips into a doubtful grimace. “I don’t know about you, Mistress, but she sort of reminds me of-”

“Do not.” Maleficent glared, her eyes blazing gold and red. “Say it.” She admonished sternly.

Diaval, too caught with his own consideration, however, hadn’t noticed the fast change in his mistress’ mood. “But you have to admit,” He insisted. “that she does look a lot like-_caw_.”

Flapping his wings in protest, Diaval cawed loudly before perching himself on the nearest branch. The debate seemed to have reached an end, but the sudden noise, even so, had made the reindeer run away and Ingrith had turned to them with a sorrowful expression on her face.

Sure that the woman couldn’t hear her, nor interpret her own thoughts – art that only Aurora had mastered over the years and Diaval when he was lucky – Maleficent stared intensely at Ingrith, trying herself to study the person she had in front of her.

Taking a small breath and studying her gaze for a moment more, the fae tilted her head to the side and parted her lips. “I wonder.”

...

_About five years ago._

The great battle was over, Stephan was dead, and the great wall of thorns surrounding the Moors had been taken down for good. Closing her eyes and facing the sun, Maleficent felt an overwhelming sense of peace washing over her as powerful as never before.

Now that the curse was no more, Aurora knew her true self and every secrets had been revealed, the fae felt finally free. Free to live in the Moors by Aurora’s side, free to be happy and enjoy life, free even to love.

That dawn set the beginning of a new life for everybody and at sunset she would name her Queen of the Moors and she, for once, would be the wings for her, patrolling the two kingdoms on her behalf. It had been a long night and yet she also felt restless – she wanted to fly higher and higher, test her own strength, taste the headwinds and the clouds that had been precluded for far too long. There would be time for that though. All the time in the world.

There was a whole day of planning for Aurora coronation. And, first, she needed to get herself presentable.

Calling Diaval by her side, she tucked her wings around her own body and swooped down in a vertical way, avoiding trees and branches and diving into the lake swiftly like an arrow. She got rid of the ash, the stinky smell of smoke and blood and cleaned her wings with care, closing her eyes at the soothing feeling of her muscles finally relaxing.

The raven had just dipped his little body barely enough to clean his own feathers and now was waiting patiently for his mistress to finish as well. In a mote of sudden embarrassment, his human part making him consider that it was something he shouldn’t witness, he turned to the other side and cawed gently upon Aurora’s arrival.

“Getting ready for tonight?” She grinned, walking slowly toward them.

“You can say so, yes.” When Diaval turned into a man before her eyes, she flinched slightly, but immediately found back her smile.

The man tentatively looked behind himself, trying to decide what was taking so long for the fae to clean her wings, but Aurora was quicker and much less abash. “I thought they were black.” She frowned, walking firmly toward the lake and sitting on a nearby rock.

Maleficent hinted a smile and, after a quick ruffle to get rid of the excess water, she stepped out of the lake and sat beside the girl.

Aurora was still giggling with mirth, asking herself – with not much care – whether the fae had splashed her on purpose or not.

“They are black.” She confirmed, stretching them so Aurora could look at them better. It had only been hours and the girl seemed to be so fascinated and intrigued by them. Pixies and nymphs had wings, but none of the creatures of the Moors had ones so big and covered with feathers. “And brown. And grey.” She added with a sigh. “It depends on the light, but they match my mood, really. Nevertheless, my wings are mostly dark.”

Aurora let her eyes roam on them for entire minutes, her hands folded on her lap, her fingers restless toying with one another. “Godmother?”

“Yes, Beastie?”

“May I.. touch your wings?”

Maleficent stared at her with no particular emotion battling in her heart, as she had, on the contrary, expected. The idea felt oddly private: she’d allowed only one person to touch her wings and he had betrayed her in the most vile of ways, stealing them, cutting them off.

Aurora, still, was nothing like her father.

Slowly, with just a peal of a smile, the fae nodded.

The girl reverentially stretched her hand and placed it on the top part of her wing, where the ivory spur sprouted from the thin layer of dark skin and then moved north, closer to Maleficent’s shoulder, where small feathers covered the area with woolly, dark threads and finally down, touching her feathers, the big ones covering the smaller ones in a glorious ensemble.

Aurora smiled, her heart almost bursting when she heard the content moan escaping the fae’s lips. Waiting for her glowing green and gold eyes to flutter open, the girl beamed. “They’re so soft!” She said happily, feeling privileged. “Nothing like Diaval’s!”

At that remark, the man gasped outraged. “Hey.”

Smiling secretly, Maleficent glanced over the girl. Reading the same desire of being alone to share a moment, the same wish that stood in her own heart, she flickered her fingers into Diaval’s direction, small threads of green smoke hovering toward him. “Get lost.” She urged.

The man pulled on his jacket, grimacing in dislike as he waited to be turned into his original bird-form. “I’ve always hated girls’ talks.” He mumbled, finishing his sentence with a loud screech.

“What is it, Beastie?” She asked sweetly, with the voice she used – and was able to use – only with her. “You seem preoccupied.”

Aurora sighed heavily, slouching her shoulders in the desperate attempt to make herself smaller. “Do you really think I’m fit to be Queen? I know so little. You, on the other hand-”

“It’s time for the Moors to have someone like you as Queen.” She promptly replied, firmly and reassuring.

“But I am a mortal. How can I understand them? How can I watch over them if I don’t have powers like you?”

“Your fear of failing them is what will make you a great Queen.” Maleficent smiled, cupping her face with her hand. “You know each one of them since you were little. You’re part of them as much they are of you – you belong to this place.”

“Just like us, Godmother.” Aurora gave her a warm smile, leaning more into her touch. “You’ll be with me, won’t you?”

The fae mirrored her smile, though her heart was running at full gallop. How could she be so blessed to have someone like Aurora beside? What did she do to grand herself such privilege?

“Every step of the way, Beastie.” She promised. Was that going to be forever?

It was something that had just born and yet the curse was meant to be broken with true love’s kiss and it did. A kind that couldn’t be unrequited, but pure and unconditional. Did Aurora – young, innocent Aurora – knew about it? If she needed time, Maleficent would give it to her. She would wait the eternity, even.

“Godmother?”

Again, the same voice full of fright. Again, her eyes were lost. It wasn’t the responsibility of a fair realm that tormented her heart, then and not even love. Or maybe yes – but of a different kind. For a different being. A mortal, like her.

“It’s about Phillip.” She said with a low voice, swallowing hard.

The name was a dagger through Maleficent’s hopeful heart. Blind, fool, ridiculous creature that thought she could win such a pure heart with just a kiss. She called her _Godmother_. That was she was for her, from day one – that was all she’s ever going to be. Nothing could ever change that, not even one-sided love. Especially that. Aurora had chosen her as her guidance and protector so Maleficent was to guide and protect her. Nothing more and nothing less than that.

Pushing the pangs of jealousy in the back of her mind, she took a deep breath. “Of course I remember the boy.” She said dryly. Phillips didn’t deserve her hate, but she couldn’t help herself. He who with just a greet, white horse and long hair had wiped away years of waiting.

Aurora sighed again. “Good.” She mumbled, biting down her own lip in embarrassment.

Maleficent mirrored her. She wasn’t doing a great job as a parent either. Aurora had requested to be one for her and the fae had to try at the very least. Love had so much different shades, and she needed to pick the right one. “Go on, Beastie.” She encouraged with a smile.

After all, she imagined that for Aurora wasn’t easy talk about those thing with someone overprotective like herself, especially if the subbject was a human the girl particularly liked. There was no need in denying that. She had witnessed their first encounter, saw the glow in her girl’s eyes.

“Well, he expects something from me.” Aurora mumbled, glancing up at the fae.

“It’s how love works, I suppose?”

“Love.” The girl scoffed, disbelieving. “I barely know him.” She spat, matter-of-factly. “But he seems so sure that we’re destined to be together.”

Maleficent gave her a bittersweet smile, running her thumb across her soft cheekbone. “The princess shall grow in grace and beauty, beloved by all who meet her.” She whispered slowly, reciting those words she’d carved in her heart, cursed, blessed words that were both her salvation and undoing.

“What?” Frowned Aurora, curiosity flashing in her eyes upon hearing that strange sentence that bore the melody of an ancient poem.

“One day, I’ll tell you the whole story, Beastie.” Maleficent promised. “For now, before the sun sets, I shall make you Queen.”

“And you’ll rule by my side?” She asked hopefully.

Maleficent nodded, fooling herself that Phillip was not included in the picture. However he was. And the fae knew that, sooner rather than later, the dream of watching over the Moors with the only person worth of such duty until the end of times, would disappear. But not just yet. For now, she could dream and have Aurora all for herself.


	6. The Belated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any info or question: https://mementomori-demimonde.tumblr.com/

Chapter 6 – The Belated

“Aurora, you need to get ready: we have a whole night of travel ahead of us.” Phillip warned, in a deep voice that was both sweet and firm. The noise of his boots hitting the marble echoed throughout the room, making the girl stir. “We are awaited at the council for the peace agreement among the neighbor realms, we must be there.” He reminded.

Aurora, however, was miles away, still in one of her simple dress and hair down, staring lazily outside the window. Quite frankly, politic was the last of her concerns right now and if she only could to something similar, she would throw away her crown and run back into the safety of the Moors, forgetting all the responsibilities for a moment.

“What for?” She sighed apathetically. “None of the realms seems on the warpath with us.”

“Not now.” He confirmed. “That’s why we need the treaty, so it can stay that way.”

“Because they could feel threaten by our alliance with the Moors?” Aurora spat dryly, well aware that all the other kings and queens only pay respect out of fear, as if she could command Maleficent or the clan to attack anything or anyone as she pleased.

Phillip sighed. He knew he was about to stand on thin ice. “You can’t exactly blame them. Maleficent is unpredictable, sometimes.”

Aurora didn’t reply. She wanted to defend her, but quite frankly she didn’t have any arguments to support her stance: after all, she hadn’t heard about her in weeks. Months, to be exact, since she got married in spring and now it was the middle of summer. No, Maleficent had disappeared into thin air, despite the fact that she had been granted free access between the kingdoms there had been no messages, no visits, _nothing_, from the one the girl considered her Godmother all her life and a mother for so long, who had promised to be by her side, to guide her and advise her and protect her from harm, had disappeared.

Had she been offended by something? Was she still jealous of Phillip for having robbed the only human – or fully humanoid creature, for the matter – that truly cared for her in all those years of solitude? As a fae, Maleficent had always been possessive and, as a parent, the habit had only enhanced, but Aurora never thought it could come down to not see each other again. Like some sort of childlike revenge of all-or-nothing.

“What if something happened to her?” She wondered just above breath, her eyes flickering somewhere over the castle walls, where she knew the Moors stood.

“Diaval would’ve warned us.” The other assured, offering a loose embrace at his young wife so she could find comfort there.

Aurora knew he was right. She’d seen the raven circling the castle several times, greeting with loud caws and swirly flights, yet not even once he’d seemed distressed.

But not the thought nor the hold gave her some relief, and she hated herself for it. The painful realization that her husband didn’t suffice and that she craved for something different was pure torture, and as much as she tried to fool herself, pretending to search within her for what she truly desired, deep down, she knew it already: her heart yearned for Maleficent.

When it was her, embracing with her arms and wings, the girl truly felt home. And safe. It was silly, and Aurora felt like a spoiled child missing and claiming for its mother – and she was supposed to be queen, one that, in a few hours, would’ve chosen for the future of several kingdoms. It wasn’t right, nor fair.

“I’d preferred if something had happened to her.” Aurora sighed bitterly, pushing back every sense of guilt in a corner of her brain. It wasn’t fair to say so, for the fae had already suffered enough and she didn’t deserve any bad thoughts from anyone and yet it was the only thing that could quench the agitation that Aurora felt. Because Maleficent had no excuses – she’d gone away and left her behind. Otherwise, she could’ve condoled her absence if she’d been sick or injured or… distracted. Suddenly, the thought of her founding another to fill her days cut off Aurora’s breath. What if Maleficent had found someone? Someone that meant more than Diaval and herself? What if she’d found herself a Phillip (one that could really complete her and make her feel whole, unlike Aurora); wasn’t it every creature’s nature?

“She doesn’t deserve your hatred, Aurora.” He husband whispered into her ear, but instead of soothing her spirit, the fact that he was right, did nothing but enhance her frustration.

“Then where is she?” The young queen blurted out, spinning on her heels and freeing herself from the constriction of Phillip’s arms. She breathed hard, shaking, eyes flickering with blazing turmoil.

He frowned and sighed, struggling to comprehend her feelings. The simple girl who had only smiles upon her face, always happy and positive, was now a different, complex woman whose masks were now unreadable.  
Since they became regents, Aurora seemed to be broken, missing a piece – he’d thought it was the new position, the new life she now had to adapt, but now he wasn’t sure anymore. His wife was missing more than a piece and Phillip was terrified that, sooner or later, she would lose her whole self. He’d never thought Aurora capable of hating and yet there she was, despising the creature she truly loved the most.

“You’re angry with her.” Phillip stated, slowly, as if he wanted her to become aware of the realization that was nothing more than the plain truth.

Aurora stared at him. Even if he wasn’t able to console her, Phillip knew her well.

She felt her eyes welling up and before her sight got completely blurred, she lowered her chin and nodded almost imperceptibly. “She abandoned me.” The girl said with a broken sob. “Just like everyone else, she abandoned me.”

First her parents when they thought they could protect her by sending her away for sixteen years, then her father when she came back, preferring fulfilling his vengeance rather than worrying about his own daughter’s well-being and finally the one who’d sworn to protect her until the end of time – all gone. Broken promises to leave her behind for whatever reason.

Aurora had thought Maleficent was different, but she was no better. The fae had decided that the girl didn’t need her anymore and she’d found surely someone else in need to replace her. Of course she was angry – in fact, she was furious.

“Maleficent would never abandon you!” Phillip retorted, trying to soothe her down even if he wasn’t sure he was telling the truth. “I’m sure she’ll pay you visit eventually.”

“What if she doesn’t?” The other promptly asked, folding her arms on the chest. “It’s been months.” She said with a low voice as if she wanted to hear her own voice saying those things to make it real. “Maleficent will never come back to me.”

“How do you know?” Phillip gave her a half-smile. He wanted to comfort her so much, but somehow he knew she was beyond that.

Aurora sighed sharply and closed her eyes. “I just… _know_.” She breathed. “I can feel it – she won’t come.” She paused, memories swirling inside the blackness of her mind, her warm voice echoing through her head. “It’s about something she said the last time I saw her, before the wedding. Now I feel like she was saying goodbye.” Aurora held her own elbows into a mere attempt to make herself small and her suffering with her. “I was blinded by happiness and I didn’t see that she was leaving me here.”

It pained Phillip to see her like that. “If you’re right, it wasn’t fair of her to leave you behind like that.” He murmured. “She owes you some closure, at least, and an explanation.”

Aurora once again didn’t speak. She wanted to see the fae again more than anything, but if Maleficent had decided to forget about her for good, the girl had to respect her decision – and then, see her again, wouldn’t it be painful? What if the fae would say horrible things to her? How would she live with such a burden of Maleficent’s hatred?

“Go to her.” He whispered unexpectedly.

Aurora tentatively lifted her chin, blinking away few tears, when she felt her husband squeezing her shoulders reassuringly. “Go to her _now_.” He repeated firmly.

The girl frowned. “What about the meeting?”

Phillips hesitated before staring right into her bright eyes. “I know it’s unsettling to hear, but if Maleficent is unpredictable as we said and there’s no way to communicate with her, the peace agreement with the other kingdoms has to be also a pact of covenant.”

Aurora gasped silently, staring at her husband in dismay. “She would never-”

“Like she would never forget you?” He asked rhetorically. “Look, I don’t want to throw stones, that’s why we need to be sure. Aurora, you must talk to her and put an end to all of this. You owe it to yourself.” He said evenly. “And to the kingdom.”

“I’d never imagined something like this could happen.” Whispered the girl, the fear and the hard truth battling inside her brain. How did she let everything go downhill so fast and so irrevocably?

“I know it’s difficult.” Phillip offered, feeling horrible for having shown to his already fragile wife another possibility that could’ve thrown their whole world upside down and turn all her beliefs into ashes.

“I didn’t expect it to be simple.” Aurora replied dryly, bending her lips into a half-smile. “I’ll leave at once and I’ll be joining you to the meeting in a few days.”

“I don’t think it will be over soon.” Confirmed Phillip, offering her yet another hug.

This time, Aurora let herself bury within his hold, breathing in the scent she’d learned to know.

“Good luck.” She whispered barely above breath.

“Good luck to you.” He retorted with a sigh.

He squeezed her one more time, both of them smiling, but when he leaned into her to kiss her lips and give his goodbyes, she flinched away discretely. He thought she was still upset and pensive, so he didn’t pay much attention to the gesture.

Aurora, on the other hand, wondered why she hadn’t felt the need of kissing her husband before the first days they’d spend apart.

  
  


She didn’t ask for a chaperone and dissuaded each guard and soldier who offered to escort her at least to the border. Aurora knew she had to do it alone and, after the decree which had provided blocking to every human that intended trespassing into the fair land, she was also aware that any other man or woman that wasn’t herself, would’ve been perceived as a threat and, in the worst scenario, triggered a war.

Aurora rowed herself on a small boat to the other side of the river and, once crossed the neutral land that didn’t belong wither to the men nor to the fair folks, she walked into the Moors. It was strange not find anyone there, not even the tree warriors who were supposed to ward any intruder off – and no Maleficent, which was even more alarming, since she could feel whatever was happening within the Moors as if the magical forest was part of her.

Soon, her rage dissipated. Aurora wasn’t sure if it was because of the thought of something terrible had happened was crawling into her mind or was it just the shooting peace of that land was working like a balm on her troubled soul; all she knew, was that the memories and the smells and the bright colors and the flutters of millions of magical lives around her were once again making her fell home. The castle was beautiful, Phillip was wonderful and yet, nothing could compare with the Moors.

Aurora sighed, forcing herself to continue her searching. She pushed back her growing longing for that land and focused all her thoughts on Maleficent.  
Was she supposed to call her? Wouldn’t it be stupid, to scream and screech, desperately, when the fae was already aware of her presence?

If she still hadn’t shown up – nor any of her friend or Diaval – then there was truly something wrong. Aurora considered for a moment the idea of going to the lake first, since it was dark already and the water nymphs and the trolls would surely willing to answer all her questions without hesitation, but then she decided to head to the rowan tree and find the truth by herself.  
Most of all, she wanted to face Maleficent alone, at once, before the nostalgia would take over.

For how much she tried, however, she couldn’t help but feel angry. Maleficent hadn’t had any right to deprive herself from the girl's life, nor to decide for the both of them that is was better to be divided like the two kingdoms: forever connected, deeply and irrevocably, and yet separated.

Perhaps Aurora was only jealous at the thought of the fae having found some interesting business to occupy her existence with, something that wasn’t herself. After all, Maleficent didn’t ask to be a Godmother, let alone a parent, on the contrary, she had intended to hate that little creature that was the symbol of betrayal – but destiny had worked in weird ways and now Aurora wished simply for things to go back as they were.  
Was it really too much to ask to have her guidance and protector by her side? Or at least being able to talk to her whenever she needed to?

Didn’t Maleficent long for the same?

All those years, thinking she had learned to know her dark heart and layers of mystery, had been wasted if the fae had truly forgotten Aurora that easily. She hated having been erased by the thoughts of the person who cared for most in a blink.

Yes, she hated Maleficent for it, though it wasn’t fair of her, Aurora hated her with such passion she didn’t even know she owned – a strength that could only come from the deep and pure love that once had been, a sentiment that was now a breath away from hatred itself.

High stepping into the hidden path that led to the rowan tree, where Maleficent’s nest was, the girl couldn’t help but remember her own feet, day after day, year after year, creating the very path she was now walking on. Once it was clear and visible but now, after only a few months away from the Moors, the grass and the musk had taken over almost completely. It was like seeing the result of her absence in something physical and that sight only enhanced her frustration: how could they all forget so soon and so easily about her?

When she finally reached the small valley, Aurora felt a painful and foreign pang inside her chest. She tried to breathe but failed for a frightful moment.

Quicker than ever before, the rage became utter fear, and after that, Aurora was overwhelmed by a disarming sense of guilt.

Glancing up at the rowan tree, she gasped in horror at the sight of the unfamiliar, glow of luminous dust that was flickering on the top, making the green leaves shaking and turning brown and fall as they succumbed to some powerful magic.

Aurora felt a pang in her heart at the realization that something was wrong, terribly so, and that she could do nothing about it.

Shaking her state of numbness off herself, she tried to run, but far too soon she realized it was too late to do anything: up in the dark night sky, hovering like a vulture above Maleficent’s nest, there was something that resembled a balloon, big and soundless as it floated closer and closer to the ground. From the basket beneath it, purplish magic poured below, engulfing the tree, to begin with, and then channel beyond it, where the cave was, into a thin layer of swirling durst.

Aurora stared, powerless. A great danger had descended upon the Moors and, first, it had struck on its core, taking down the only creature that was truly able to protect everyone.

And what could Aurora do, other than blaming herself for her own recklessness and face the fact that she’d broken the promise she’d made years ago to keep her Godmother safe? Was she alive, hurt – was she gone, forever? Did she lose Maleficent for good or was there any hope to get her back? She, a mere mortal, could suffice for such rescue mission to some unknown destination?

Was it really too late for them to be reunited?

...

_Earlier that night._

Maleficent had taken Ingrith into the core of the enchanted forest of the Moors. Only weeks ago – or even days – she’d never thought a person like her could be worthy of such privilege, and yet the former Queen of Ulstead, was now nothing more than an empty shell, with very little knowledge of the world around her.

Perhaps Diaval was right and she needed simply to learn about kindness and compassion, both inbred within the fair creatures, perhaps Maleficent had gone soft after years of taking care of a human and she felt the need to help others, even the ones who once had been her enemies, perhaps she’d really learned how to forgive… or perhaps the fae knew it was the only right thing to do, but she felt bonded to Ingrith, in a weird, mysterious way. Perhaps she really reminded her of Aurora, the innocent, lost girl who so desperately needed a family and someone to look after her and protect her from the evil of the world.

Yes, perhaps Ingrith was the same. Perhaps she only needed comprehension.

Years ago, everything that took for Aurora to win Maleficent’s heart, had been a simple night trip to the Moors, where the fae could see the beauty of her own land reflected into the astound eyes of the girl. And just like that, the young Beastie she looked after for all that time, suddenly transformed into the one person she wished to share her life with. Just a mere dream of a fool fae, though, for Aurora had chosen another path – something that could suit her human nature more. And yet the Moors and its creatures had taught her much, Maleficent above all.

Perhaps the thought that even Ingrith could benefit of such land had been correct. Because now that the woman was staring in awe at the graceful dances of the nymphs, the tension seemed to have abandoned everyone almost completely. There was a strange feeling of peace and hope that Maleficent couldn’t believe possible, something that had lifted a great burden off her wings.

“This is much better than the cottage.” Whispered Ingrith out of the blue, her voice barely above breath as if she feared that another noise would scare the little beings away. Perhaps she was right, but others would have arrived in no time anyway. “I promise to behave if you take me here every once in a while.”

Maleficent stared with apparent stoicism, while an ocean of questions was brewing inside her like a storm. “Are you blackmailing me?” She asked, managing to keep her voice emotionless.

Ingrith shrugged. The fae wasn’t sure whether she was faking indifference or she really spoke with no string attached.

“Sort of.” The woman grimaced. But then, the questionable expression turned into a mischievous, almost playful smirk. “I’m proposing a truce.” She explained. Her face was the portrait of grace and firmness, typical of someone who’s accustomed to lead and give orders – perhaps she was already peremptory when she was a princess, but the attitude could come from her more recent status as queen.

“Are you?” Asked Maleficent subtly encouraging her, out of mere curiosity, or, perhaps, something more.

“If you’ll indulge me, in the future I’ll cooperate without complaining – too much.” She added with a shade of unrequited honesty.

The fae stayed without moving for a long moment. Her wings twitched and relaxed.

“Very well.” She conceded.

On Ingrith’s face, the slightest hint of a smile appeared. The woman averted her eyes, seeking for some sort of release after those instants of great tension; she rejoiced her little win, perhaps even foretaste those moments of utter peace where the fair folks would marvel her spirit with surprises and magical tricks she couldn’t even imagine in her wildest dreams.

When she was sure that their deal was sealed and that Maleficent was satisfied with the chance of more relaxed forthcoming times, where their roles would even be defined, Ingrith turned hesitantly to her, her glance stubbornly low, maybe fearing to break that fine balance just created.

When she was sure that Maleficent was not showing any sign of vexation – for whichever reason – she added a slight turn of her head to that peek of her sharp-edged face with the corner of her eye. “When can I return to my castle?”

It was like time had stopped for an instant. Maleficent faced her, apparently untouched by that question and, surprisingly, she offered a pitiful tilt of her head, it reminded of compassion, but it was so close to commiseration that Ingrith frowned with a sparkle of pride-hurt anger. Instead of exploding, however, she preferred to let the fae justify such aleatory behavior.

The answer, however, verged into hermetic. “I’m afraid it won’t be possible,” She breathed out, her glance distant. “for now.”

Ingrith sighed, anger soon replaced with disappointment. “I really don’t get why am I here.”

Maleficent finally turned again. She clearly felt sorry for her, for the lack of information she couldn’t and didn’t want to fill, the sense of loneliness and solitude that would certainly envelop the woman’s heart and that the fae knew very well.

“One day, somebody will tell you the whole story and you’ll understand everything.”

Ingrith tightened her jaw, her voice bearing stripes of desperate sorrow. “Why not _now_, why not _you_?”

“It is not my place to tell, nor the right time for you to know.” Maleficent continued. Then, after a quick glance over the reddening horizon, she stood up and spread her wings in anticipation.

“But-”

“Come,” She ordered. “I must get up early tomorrow.” Maleficent flickered her fingers and green, magical smoke, surrounded her body and made Ingrith float, weightless, into the air. It wasn’t a choice for her to follow the fae, but the lack of complaints was enough as the keeping of a promise.

Instead of taking them to the cottage, however, after a quick flight, Ingrith found herself on the top of a hash cliff, only adorned by a courageous tree, perched right on the edge before the jump, and a dark cave on the back.

Without speaking, Maleficent tucked her wings on her back and laid the woman down, steadfastly walking toward the safeness of the hole. On the ground, a nest of soft leaves shielded her feet from the cold, hard rocks and a curtain of tiny flowers, shining with everlasting dew, separated the inside with the outside.

“No magic?” She asked with a dim voice, tiptoeing after her, unsure of what to do with herself.

“I don’t think you can wander far.” Came the unquestionable reply.

Of course, she couldn’t fly, therefore escape from the top of the cliff and, on the other hand, nobody without wings or magic could’ve ever reached that place.

“Is this your house?” She asked again, her eyes untiring.

“Sometimes.” Replied the other, laying down and quickly finding a comfortable position. “You can sleep here tonight. It’s too late to go to the cottage anyway.”

Ingrith thanked her with a grateful smile. Curling up into the farthest corner, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

Faked to fall asleep.

Pretended to be asleep, just like she’d been pretended for days about her bewilderment.

When she emerged from the waters, confused and lost, she couldn't remember anything else but her goal: earn Maleficent’s trust. But for what, she really couldn’t tell. How did she get to the Moors, that as well was a mystery. Just like a giant puzzle missing pieces, she kept the only sure thing she knew and act on it, devoting heart and soul to the purpose.

At first, she thought it had been hard pretending to be something she wasn’t anymore, and utterly disgusting being nice and kind and forth going with pretty much everything, but then it came to her so natural that she was starting to get why Aurora was so happy all the time.

Everything felt so incredibly meaningless, now.

Those creatures, Maleficent above all, were so forgiving, loving and kind-hearted, no matter the past, no matter how the people had treated them. Almost painfully she realized that she didn’t want to harm any of them. It wouldn’t be fair, it wouldn’t feel right.

Maleficent had shown her so many things that she believed extinguished into the world of men. They had such hope in people, they believed in second chances. The Moors deserved protection, not betrayal, not even for a higher purpose which, knowing herself, would be something egoistic or power-seeking to the expenses of the innocents.

There was a tiny possibility to obtain the throne, but why keep on fighting? She was old, unloved, the crown would not bring any consolation. And then, there were things within her, now, reason battling with sentiment, that she just couldn’t explain.

She needed to leave. Immediately.

Even if her heart wept, at the thought of parting from… the Moors, she needed to.

Impossible as it sounded, she had to save that place from her own greed – the past one that she had no memory of – save those little creatures, save _her_.

No matter the consequences, no matter admitting her betrayal with her leaving, even if that meant breaking Maleficent’s trust forever, with no possibility of forgiveness this time, she had to retreat. And why did she care so much?

Ingrith held her head tight, squeezing as if the pressure was enough to push every doubt and question out of her mind as if the hollowness that would follow was the answer she needed to think clearly and do the right thing.

Maleficent was her enemy – a mortal one – but now she could see much more behind the winged creature to defeat. Was it because of her nature, Ingrith couldn’t tell for sure, but she had to find a solution to that situation before going insane.

Unluckily for her, she could see any other option than just leave: abort a quest she had nearly forgotten.

The woman slowly unbundled herself, and her eyes fell on the fae, curled up in her nest of vines in the other corner of the cave. She wondered, for a moment, whether Maleficent was really sleeping or just pretending to, but her rhythmic, deep breaths, told Ingrith she was deep in her slumber. The woman felt a sharp, quick pang in her stomach: either the fae considered her harmless, or she really had to believe her. There were no boundaries nor magic to divide them. She felt free in a way and trustworthy, even if she didn’t deserve any of those kind thoughts.

She was a fraud, a true villain and, perhaps, she would always be.

Aurora would say that it’s not too late to change, and yet, deep down, Ingrith knew that it wasn’t true because there was nothing she could do to erase the past – and the present.

Truth was that she was tired. Tired of pretending, tired of suffocating herself, pushing away any happy thoughts in advance of a plan which felt so meaningless, now.

It would’ve been better to just _stop_.

Even if that meant isolation, even if that meant spending the rest of her sad days in regret.

Ingrith inhaled thoroughly, letting the scented air of the Moors expand her lungs completely until it hurt. She pinned her feet and rose up, careful not to make a noise, and walked to the entrance, her glance hovering on the edge of the cliff, on the breathtaking horizon of that fairyland, bathed in the silvery light of the full moon.

She closed her eyes, her mind completely empty as she planned her risky descent down the rocky wall, but she couldn’t think much.

At first, it was only a distant sound, like a flutter of wings, then it became more pressing, and the noise filled her ears and made her heart race at a full gallop.

Scared, Ingrith backed down, and in the same moment, a gush of powerful wind made her stumble back into the cave. She fell down next to Maleficent and waited.

Waited for her to wake up, for her eyes to glow with flames, for her magic to cast spells around, under the shape of dragons and monsters… nothing happened.

Ingrith turned around and it was then that she noticed the thin cloud of purplish dust hovering around the fae, creating a cloak of impalpable material around her body. Blocking her.

She was breathing heavily, struggling, as if she was fighting a great pain. Her eyes were flaring and full of disappointment born from a betrayal the woman couldn’t deny.

“What have you done to me?” Maleficent cried out, her voice coming out strangled as it came out from her gritted teeth.

Even if she wanted to admit her betrayal, she couldn’t – she didn’t know how.

Powerless, unable to speak, Ingrith stared in fright: she really didn’t know what was happening.


End file.
